


Any Thrill Will Do

by Star55



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Girl Direction, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Lesbian Sex, Misunderstandings, Motorcycles, Real Estate Agent Harry Styles, Sexism, men being trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star55/pseuds/Star55
Summary: It’s a Tuesday when Harry’s motorbike stops working. This is a catalyst for her entire life changing forever. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik
Comments: 20
Kudos: 130





	Any Thrill Will Do

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this MONTHS ago, just fyi.
> 
> This is the motorbike/real estate AU no one wanted, but they're getting anyway. I love this fic more than I love chocolate. The title comes from the Hozier fic title generator, too. 
> 
> Thank you to [Leah](https://punkgrantaire.tumblr.com) and [Mar](https://larryscurves.tumblr.com) for the cheerleading, you ladies are GODDESSES. And a massive thank you [Mimi](https://missunicorncheesecake.tumblr.com) to for the beta read, you're incredible.
> 
> Any leftover mistakes are my own, if you find any, please kindly point them out. ♥

It’s a Tuesday when Harry’s motorbike just _stops_ working. She sighs. She’s already running late, and now _this_. Once she’s standing on two feet, she quickly orders a taxi so she can finally get to work. 

Harry can’t help but wonder why everything happens on a Tuesday. Probably because Mondays are so intense and everything relaxes a little on Tuesdays. She’s probably just making this up, but it keeps her amused while she waits semi-impatiently for her taxi to pick her up. 

By the time Harry has a free moment, it’s already past three in the afternoon and she finally lets out a long breath, resting her head in her hands.

“What’s up?” Harry’s best friend and co-worker, Niall, asks. 

Harry looks up to see Niall leaning against the door frame to Harry’s office. 

“I’ve barely had time to breathe today, and I still have to call a mechanic to see if I can get them to have a look at my bike,” Harry replies.

Niall tosses the stress ball that’s in her hands up a few inches before catching it again. She does this a lot. “Zayn’s got a friend who’s a mechanic,” she says easily. “I’ll get you the number so you can figure it out.”

A relieved smile crosses Harry’s lips. “Thank you,” she replies. “Want to get drinks after work? I think I need it today.”

“If you’re paying, yeah,” Niall says with a cheeky grin. “I saw that commission cheque you got for closing the McMahon building, I know you’re rolling in it.”

It’s not a lie, so Harry doesn’t say anything to the contrary. “I’m buying,” she says instead. “Make sure your wife comes, too? I haven’t seen her gorgeous face in ages.”

“Will do,” Niall says. She tosses the stress ball to Harry, who tosses it between her hands for a pass each before throwing it back to Niall. She really should get one of those.

The phone on Harry’s desk rings.

“I’ll get you that number,” Niall says with a nod before she leaves Harry alone in her office.

Harry picks up the call and forces a fake smile onto her face. She knows that the tone of her voice changes sometimes, when she doesn’t have that fake smile on. And at the rate that this day is going, she is sure that her voice would be less than enthusiastic if she didn’t have that smile. She’s good at what she does, and she’s only good because she’s been playing this game for far too long.

Upon leaving secondary school, Harry had no idea what she wanted to do. She took some online quizzes to find out what best suited her personality and the things she liked to do, and she got such varying answers each time that it was baffling.

In the end, Harry blindly pointed to something from the list and her finger landed on _real estate agent_. She did business and property management at university to help her on her path, aced all of her exams, and promptly landed her first job in a small real estate firm. From there, she worked her way up to bigger and better listings. 

Then she was headhunted from a big firm who wanted to see what she could do with selling entire buildings. It was all pretty easy to Harry. She had a way with words, people liked to talk to her. She communicated better than anyone she had ever met. And deals just _happened_.

It kept the bills paid and it also had her in a really lovely penthouse flat that overlooked… well, other buildings, but the sunrise from her balcony was spectacular in the mornings.

It was in this career that she met Niall, and became best friends with her. Niall was just as competitive, but she didn’t care for buildings when she could sell celebrity and high profile houses. Niall was very much a people person. She could talk anyone into practically anything. And she has an innocent smile that could rival Baby Spice’s, so it pretty much gets anyone to do anything for her.

They work well together, though, and between them both, they’re the best in their agency, which is always nice to think about.

One of Harry’s favourite things to experience on the job is showing up to a location on her motorbike. No one expects it. Especially not when they see her big eyes and big, curly hair. They expect a _guy_ to show up on a motorbike and do deals, but somewhere through the years, she started earning respect for it.

Which is why having her motorbike out of action is making Harry more upset than it really should.

She loves zipping through traffic on her bike – fitting in places that a car just _can’t_. And it never fails to make her perfectly on time for whatever meetings she has set up on location. 

But now, _today_ , she’s stuck in yet _another taxi_ , and she feels like her skin is crawling.

Harry likes the outdoors. If she didn’t love London so much, she’d move somewhere warmer so she could be outside more often. Maybe one day, when she’s older she’ll move out of the hustle and bustle that is London, but right now, she loves it far too much to give it up.

The moment Harry steps out of the car, her phone rings. She answers it without looking at the screen. The building in front of her is big. Not the biggest she’s seen, but it has potential.

She makes her way to the entrance and pulls open the door while her assistant tells her that she has organised for Harry’s bike to be picked up and taken to the mechanic that Niall had mentioned earlier. Harry is relieved that her bike situation is finally being taken care of. That’s one less stress to think about, at least.

The building developer and some contractors are standing around in the lobby as Harry tucks her phone back into her pocket.

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” she greets them.

It’s moments like this that Harry is glad she’s a lesbian.

Todd… Something, the specific building’s developer, gives her a once-over. He probably thinks that Harry doesn’t notice it. But she _always_ notices. 

“I was just telling Todd that your last building sold out in six months,” Andy, an older, but so far kind, building developer says as a greeting.

Harry gives them a closed-lipped smile. “The last one sold out in three, Andy,” she corrects.

Todd’s eyebrows raise. “Think you can handle this one?” he asks. His gaze goes to Harry’s chest. She fights the urge to cover herself. 

Instead, she puts her hands on her hips and makes a show of turning in a slow circle, her head tilted upwards to see everything around her.

“It’s _smaller_ than my last one,” she says, her gaze finally falling back onto Todd. “But I can work with it.”

Todd’s moustache twitches, but he nods. “Andy here says you’re the best.”

“Andy isn’t wrong,” Harry replies. “I have potential buyers already lined up. Send the details to my assistant and you won’t be disappointed.” With the flick of a wrist, she passes over her business card.

Todd looks at it, nods, and then slides it into the front pocket of his button down shirt. 

They make small talk for a short while, Todd seemingly keen on bragging about what features he’s bringing to the building. He even goes as far to say that the penthouse will have a hot tub, with a pointed look in Harry’s direction. She ignores it. Andy ignores it, too. Sometimes Harry wishes that he’d actually say something about the inappropriateness of his friends, but she knows it’ll never happen.

After another long while of listening to Todd talk about the building, Harry’s phone goes off in her pocket. She looks down at the screen and sees a message from Safaa, her assistant, and her best friend’s little sister, claiming some work related emergency. She loves that girl. And her timeliness to get Harry out of unwanted meetings.

“Alright, gentlemen, it was a pleasure doing business with you,” she says with a genuine smile. She nods once in their direction and then leaves the building. Her taxi is waiting for her and she gets inside it, missing her motorbike even more.

It’s late when Harry finally makes it to the pub she’s meeting Niall and Zayn at. She kisses both of their cheeks and sits down in the booth opposite them. Sometimes all she needs after a day like today is a good pub dinner and some cheap wine.

Niall, bless her soul, has already ordered for Harry, and it arrives within minutes of her sitting down.

“I thought I was paying?” Harry asks as she picks up her cutlery.

Niall shrugs. “You can get it next time,” she replies easily. “How was the meeting with Fisher?” she asks, popping a chip into her mouth. 

“Boring,” Harry replies. “Why do men talk about their buildings like it’s code for their penis size?”

Zayn snorts, setting her drink down that she had just taken a sip of. Harry shoots her an apologetic look and passes over a paper napkin. “Christ, Haz, warn a girl next time.”

Niall picks up her pint and takes a large swig. “Because it _is_ ,” she says eventually. “All of these men want to make sure that women know how big their dicks are.”

Harry’s nose crinkles in distaste. “Ten years in and I’m _still_ not used to it,” she says. She stabs at her food with her fork and lifts it to her mouth, chewing slowly.

“Anyway, Safaa said she got your bike taken to the mechanics where Liam works,” Niall says before taking another big mouthful of her burger.

“Who’s Liam?” Harry asks.

“One of my art students,” Zayn replies. She watches as Harry puts more food in her mouth before she picks up her drink to have another sip from. “She comes to my night class twice a week. She’s _really_ good.”

“And she’s a mechanic?” Harry wonders, licking her thumb where some ketchup slid onto. 

Zayn nods. She pushes her dark hair over her shoulder and straightens. Harry loves when she does this – it’s a clear indicator that Zayn is excited about something she’s talking about. Harry gives Zayn her complete attention.

“I’ve never had a student get it so quickly,” she says. “She has a real knack for architecture, too. We’re still on life models, but she was showing me some of the drawings she did on her lunch break and they’re _incredible_.”

“Let me know if she ever wants to be an architect instead, I’ll put in a good word,” Harry says. She takes a sip of her wine and leans back in her seat. “It’d be nice to have some more women in the business rather than just creepy men who like to stare at my tits.”

“What tits?” Niall quips as she finishes the last of her burger. “You’ve got almost no boobs whatsoever, Harry.”

It’s not _wrong_ , but Harry knows how to play the game, even with her B cup boobs. She knows how to stuff her bra before specific meetings to get the attention of whatever developer she’s getting deal off. She hates it. But it works. And why _shouldn’t_ she exploit these creepy men for staring at her body like they have a _right_ to? 

Harry just shrugs at Niall. “And yet they _all_ stare.” 

Niall shakes her head. She pushes herself up. “I gotta pee,” she says. She pats the tabletop once and then disappears from sight.

Once she’s finished the last of her own dinner, Harry turns to Zayn, who is chewing the last bite of her food, too.

“How’ve you been?” she asks. “Sorry I didn’t make it over the other night, I ended up having drinks with a client.”

Zayn raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow in Harry’s direction. “Just drinks?” she teases.

“He was a guy, so yeah, just drinks,” Harry replies. She downs the rest of her wine and sighs. “Want another?” she asks, nodding to Zayn’s empty glass.

“Yeah, alright.”

Harry clears their plates, stacking them up and grabs their empty glasses in her free hand. She wanders over to the bar and grins at Angie, the woman who runs the place. 

“Hey, Ange,” Harry says, placing everything down on a clear spot on the other side of the bar. “How’re you tonight?”

“Doing good, love,” Angie replies. She pats Harry on the back of her hand and then picks up the plates to put them in the back to be washed. 

“Another round, love?” Angie asks, already pouring another pint of Niall’s favourite beer.

“Yes, please,” Harry replies. She accepts the two glasses of wine and Niall’s beer and makes her way back to the table.

Niall returns as she places their glasses down and she immediately picks up her beer to have a long drink of. “Ah, that’s the stuff,” she says. “Game of pool, anyone?”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agrees.

There aren’t many people in the pub, considering it’s a Tuesday night, so there’s a couple of empty pool tables for them to choose from. 

Zayn sits off to the side and watches them. Harry breaks and grins when she immediately sinks a ball. Back when they first started hanging out together after work, Harry was absolutely rubbish at pool. She’s loads better now, thanks to Niall’s patience at teaching her how to play properly. And after all this time, she can finally hold her own in a match against Niall, who seems to have a natural talent for the game.

“Best two out of three?” Niall asks when Harry sinks the eight ball into the side pocket.

Harry nods. She picks up her wine and has a long sip. Since she’s not riding home tonight, she feels okay with indulging in a few glasses of wine. She feels loose, good – happy, even. She loves spending time with Niall and Zayn, glad to be around not only other women, but other gay women. Sometimes it’s _very_ heterosexual at the office. It gets a bit oppressive, even when people are just chatting casually. 

But around Zayn and Niall, Harry can be free. Be herself. And she craves that more than she’d like to admit.

Working the hours she does, and with the people she does, she feels like she always has to wear a mask. To be someone completely different. Be something these men desire, but not _too_ attainable, because that would ruin the fun in them looking.

One day she wants to run her own agency and just employ women. Well, anyone who isn’t a cisgendered white man, really. And in an ideal world, she’d never work with cisgendered white men again. 

“What’s the sigh for?” Niall asks as she sinks a ball into the corner pocket.

Harry bites her lip, not realising she’d made a sound. “Just thinking,” she replies with a shrug. 

“’Bout?” Niall prompts, passing Harry the chalk. 

Harry runs the blue chalk square over the tip of her cue for a few long moments. “If I started up my own agency, would you come work for me?”

“In a heartbeat,” Niall replies without hesitation.

It shouldn’t shock Harry, but it does.

“Wait, really?”

“Fuck yeah,” Niall replies. She nods to Harry for her to take her turn and she does, leaning over the table. She misses the shot.

“What if it flops?”

“Harry, you’re the _best_ real estate agent in the whole of fucking London,” Niall says. “You sold more buildings last year than the rest of the firm _combined_. I don’t think you’d flop.”

“But if it did?”

Niall shrugs easily. “Then I can say I did it with my best friend.”

A small, easy smile appears on Harry’s lips. “I’m sick of working with all of these wankers,” she starts. “Fucking _Simon_ thinks that he should’ve got the Fisher building because he’s a guy, and he _deserves_ it or some shit. Never mind the fact that I work ten times harder than he does. And he still makes the same as what I do. If I didn’t get all of those commission cheques, I’d be getting less than him.”

“The gender pay gap is ridiculous,” Zayn pipes up. “The professors at the uni are always complaining about it. The men do half the work for double the pay.”

“I had Jason try and take three listings off me this week,” Niall says. “The bastard. He’s not even good at his job. I have no idea why he’s still at the agency.”

“Me either,” Harry agrees. She hits the next ball rather aggressively and it surprisingly sinks into the corner pocket. She smiles, pleased with herself.

They finish their game of pool – Niall wins the next too, which isn’t surprising considering Harry’s tipsy. Her limbs are loose and happy and it’s the kind of relaxed she needs to feel right now. 

“Want to stay at ours?” Zayn asks as they step outside into the cool evening air. 

“Yeah, fuck it, why not?” Harry agrees. She slings her arm around Zayn’s shoulder and presses a kiss into the side of her head as they walk to the car. “I love you both so much.”

“We know, H, we know,” Zayn replies. She opens the backdoor of the car and Harry clambers inside. She tilts her head back against the headrest and closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, the car is off and Zayn and Niall are getting out. She smiles at both of them and they make their way inside. 

She loves their house. It’s one of the first houses she ever sold when she was in her early twenties. It’s actually how she and Niall met. Niall had just started working at the same agency as Harry (and when Harry was headhunted by their current employer, she told them that Niall had to come, too), and Harry had been given this listing. 

Niall, who was newly married, was looking for a relatively inexpensive house for her and her wife to move into so they weren’t in their rundown flat anymore, and Harry mentioned this house. They bought it relatively cheaply, and Harry earned her first ever commission cheque. 

Since then, she had Niall had had each other’s backs through every single thing at work. They had gone through a lot together. And Harry’s grateful that she has such amazing friends in Niall and Zayn. 

She’s especially grateful when she’s a little tipsy on wine and doesn’t particularly feel like being alone.

On more than one occasion, Harry has ended up sleeping in their bed, curled into the edge while someone spoons her. It’s nice. It makes her feel loved.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t have time to date. She does and doesn’t. She just doesn’t _like_ dating. She takes the occasional girl home and has sex, but that’s always what is agreed upon by both parties. 

After she’s finished showering, Harry pulls on the spare pyjamas that Niall and Zayn keep specifically for her. She brushes her teeth and Niall wanders into the bathroom, picking up the toothpaste and her toothbrush. 

“You staying with us tonight?” she asks.

Harry hesitates but not. “If you don’t mind?”

“’Course not,” Niall replies. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

Harry gives her a small smile. She sets her toothbrush down in the holder, grateful that they keep a spare here for her, too.

She crawls into their big bed, smack bang in the middle. She knows she’ll move, she’s not _that_ needy that she’d expect to be cuddled from both sides. But tonight, now that she’s had a few wines, she’s just feeling the need to be close to her best friends.

“Budge over,” Niall says, wandering into the room. She climbs in next to Harry and kisses her shoulder. 

Zayn steps into the room a moment later, closing the door and turning off the overhead light, leaving only the fairy lights strung through the headboard on. She climbs into the bed as well and reaches over, patting Harry’s arm.

“Night,” she mumbles. 

Harry can hear Niall and Zayn exchanging a few kisses before the room falls silent and Harry falls asleep feeling cosy and warm.

~*~

The mechanic shop _finally_ calls on Friday to say that they’ve fixed Harry’s bike. She sighs with relief when Safaa gives her the message after her first meeting of the morning, figuring that she can go and pick it up during her lunch break. At least, that’s what she _hopes_ she will be able to do.

But then she’s called into a last minute meeting that goes on until three in the afternoon, much to her annoyance. Because she also has a three-fifteen showing with an old client of hers, who _always_ likes to go out and have a cup of tea afterwards. And Harry is unable to say no to someone who is not only a sweet older lady, but was also one of Harry’s first clients?

Much to her annoyance, Harry has to go back to the office after her meeting. She half-perches on the edge of Safaa’s desk as Safaa talks on the phone. Harry scrolls through her work tablet, reading the messages left for her while she was out. 

Harry’s head lifts up when she hears voices from around the corner. Her brow furrows as she realises that someone is talking about _her_.

As cliché as it is, there’s a water cooler just around the corner from Harry’s office, and people tend to stand there and gossip. Safaa’s shared some pretty juicy titbits with Harry over the years. But this is the first time in a _long_ time that she’s heard anyone talking about her.

“…believe Harry got it over me.” It’s a guy’s voice – because of _course_ it is. 

A deeper voice follows, “I don’t even know how she gets half of these listings.” 

Harry struggles to pinpoint exactly who is talking, but Safaa catches her eye and glares in the direction the voices are coming from.

“Record this,” Harry instructs Safaa, her voice a whisper. Safaa nods and immediately unlocks her phone, hitting the recording app. 

Wordlessly, Harry gets up off the desk and wanders closer, while remaining out of sight. 

“It’s not like she’s any good at her job,” guy one says, his voice getting louder the more annoyed he gets. “It has to be the lesbian thing – these developers just want to picture themselves fucking a dyke.”

The deeper voiced guy snorts. “I’d go there,” he says. “Stupid dyke or not, I’d still love to fuck her and show her what a _real_ man is like. _All_ dykes just want a good dick.”

“I bet she’s not even a dyke,” the first one says. “She probably fucked Richard and that’s how she got to be a manager.”

“She doesn’t deserve it. _No_ dyke deserves to be on top like that. Unless they’re on top of me, of course.” 

Harry rounds the corner. It’s incredible to watch their laughter die off and their faces pale as they realise that she has heard _every single word_ they said.

“Jason, Simon,” she says with a nod. 

The best part about being Harry being herself is that she’s one of the managers of the agency now. And these two guys know it, and yet they _still_ talk shit about her, in public spaces, where anyone and everyone can hear them.

“You’re both fired. Get out.”

She grins brilliantly at them. They both scramble to apologise – to say words that they think she wants to hear. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t _care_. She certainly doesn’t give a shit at their exclamations that they have wives and families to look after. She feels sorry for whoever married them, and feels even worse for their kids who have parents like that.

The building’s security guard comes into the office a moment later, and Jason and Simon are both escorted from the premises.

“There goes my weekend off,” Harry mutters to Safaa. She sighs and rubs at her forehead with her hand. “Do you still have resumes on file from the last intake we did?” 

Safaa nods. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “But Harry, take the weekend off, you were going to go and see your mum, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, if my bike is fixed,” Harry says. “But now we’re two staff down and we’ve got more listings than everyone here can handle.”

Safaa levels Harry with a look – her brown eyes practically piercing Harry’s existence. “Look,” she begins, “it’s just _one_ weekend. I’ll stay behind tonight and sort out some resumes. I’ll put only the best on your desk for Monday morning and we’ll go from there.”

“But what about you?” Harry says. “Aren’t you and Rishi going out for dinner tonight?”

“I’ll still make it to dinner,” Safaa reassures her. “Besides, my Dadu is staying with us and he likes spending time with Rishi alone. They’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Safaa,” Harry says. “Can you email that recording to me and all of the other managers? I don’t really fancy coming in on Monday and having everyone angry at me that I fired two staff members.”

“Can do,” Safaa replies. She waves Harry off. “Now go. You’re already late enough to get to the mechanics. I’ve already called a taxi for you.”

“You’re the best,” Harry says. She pats Safaa on the shoulder once and then leaves as quickly as possible, hoping that the shop isn’t closed by the time she gets there.

By the time Harry _actually_ makes it to the mechanics, it’s after five o’clock and she’s _exhausted_. She wants nothing more than to go home, fill her bath tub with some amazing Lush bath bomb, crack open a bottle of wine and just relax. 

Without having her bike, every single piece of travelling she did felt like it took ten times longer. She’d have to order a taxi, wait for it, wait _in_ traffic, and then wait to be collected again. 

If anything, the absence from her motorbike has just made Harry love and appreciate it even more than she already did.

Finally, she steps out of what is hopefully her last taxi ride for a very long time. She gives a friendly wave to the driver and walks into a very cliché looking mechanic shop called _Tomlinson and Sons Mechanics_. She hasn’t been to _many_ , but there are grease stains on the concrete floor, the smell of motor oil in the air, and a few cars suspended in mid-air, attached to strong looking contraptions.

And there, in the far corner near an office is Harry’s bike. She can’t help but smile when she sees it. She immediately makes a beeline for it, just wanting to touch it to know that it’s _really_ there.

“Hey,” a voice to Harry’s left says. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Harry,” she says to the woman addressing her. “You’ve been fixing my bike?” She gestures to her Harley Davidson in the corner.

“Ah, yeah, Liam did the work,” the woman says with a nod. She’s wearing denim dungarees and what was probably once a white tank top underneath it. Her arms are bare, showing off _many_ tattoos. Tattoos that are dotted with grease stains. 

The woman tucks the rag she was wiping her hands with into a side pocket of her dungarees and she nods towards the office. She swipes stray hairs out of her eyes, smearing a streak of grease or something across her forehead as she does. She has her longish hair in a braid, which Harry thinks is very sensible if she’s bending over cars or bikes all day.

“I’ll settle the bill for you,” she says, glancing up at Harry with the most striking blue eyes she’s ever seen. “Liam will be back in a minute and she’ll be able to tell you what was wrong.”

“Thank you,” Harry says. She follows the woman into the office. 

She sits down and opens an appointment book. Harry leans against the door jamb, letting her gaze roam around the office. There are a few awards dotting the walls of the small office. An old computer sits in the corner of the desk and some car part or something rests against the filing cabinet. Harry’s a little in love with how cliché it is. 

There’s a noise of a car door behind Harry and she glances over her shoulder. Another woman appears, her hair cropped short. She’s also wearing dungarees, but looks significantly cleaner than the woman in the office.

“Li, is that you?” the woman calls out. 

“Yeah.”

Harry watches as Li – she figures this is the Liam that is Zayn’s student – approaches. She nods once at Harry and edges into the office.

“Did you total the work on Harry’s bike?” she asks.

“Erm,” Liam says. “Yeah, hang on, I had to add something.” She reaches over and grabs a sheet of paper. Harry watches them silently, tapping her fingers on her thigh.

“Harry Styles, right?”

She nods.

“I’m Liam,” the woman says with a brilliant smile. “Sorry it took so long to get to your bike, but I had to order a part in.”

“What was wrong with it?” Harry asks. Liam leads Harry back out of the office and they stop in front of Harry’s bike. 

“Your engine had a crack in it,” Liam replies. Harry’s eyes widen. She had no idea. “It was a relatively easy fix, but I had to order a few parts. Harley’s are notorious for their need for constant upkeep. But I could tell that you take really good care of it, which is nice. Some people aren’t so kind to their bikes.”

“That bike is my life,” Harry admits, glancing down at it. “I get it serviced regularly and no one spotted anything when I went three months ago.”

Liam nods. She runs her hand over the leather seat of Harry’s motorbike. “It might have been a hairline crack then. Or poor service from wherever you took it to.” She shrugs easily and glances back up at Harry. Her brown eyes are quite captivating, Harry thinks.

The other woman reappears with a piece of paper in hand. She shoves it in Liam’s direction and Liam takes it.

“Is that everything?” she asks.

Liam’s brow furrows as she looks at the paper and then she nods. “Yeah, that’s everything.”

“Good. Can you ring it up?” 

“Sure thing, Lou,” Liam replies. “The till is this way,” she says to Harry.

Harry nods and follows along. She has enough cash on her in case they like payment that way, but she also has her credit cards with her.

“Louis,” Liam says, sounding huffy. “Where did you put the ETFPOS machine?”

“Sorry, love, it’s in the office,” Louis replies, her voice sounding far away.

“I’ll be right back.” Liam disappears and Harry leans against the counter that hosts the cash register. 

Louis appears again a moment later, her dungarees undone and hanging down around her waist. Her tank top clings to her body, accentuating her boobs, curves, and it also shows off her amazing arm muscles. Harry quickly averts her gaze before she’s caught staring. She licks her lips and looks down at the papers next to the till. 

“Got it,” Liam says, reappearing with the electronic card reader in her hand.

“So the sign outside says _Tomlinson and Sons_ ,” Harry starts conversationally. “But I haven’t seen any guys here? Or did they all leave so the women could lock up?”

Surprisingly, Louis breaks into a smile. She leans one hand on the counter. “My dad inherited this business from his father. But my dad also had five daughters.” She shrugs and bumps her shoulder into Liam, who’s poking at the card reader with her index finger. “Six if you count Liam who practically grew up with us, hey, love?”

“Lou, I have to start over now,” Liam huffs. Louis just bumps their shoulders again, which causes Liam to glare at her. 

It looks playful more than annoyed, Harry thinks as she pulls her purse out of her handbag. She opens it up and slides out a card. 

“Oh, hey! Another dyke who likes bikes!” Liam exclaims.

“Excuse me?” Harry says, her gaze narrowing on Liam.

“That’s the lesbian flag on your sticker, I just assumed…”

“Please don’t call me a dyke,” Harry says curtly. “It’s a slur and I don’t appreciate being called that.”

Liam’s eyes go wide. “I don’t–”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Liam and I are both lesbians,” Louis interrupts. Her gaze is challenging as she levels Harry with a look. Like she expects Harry to disbelieve her, or ask for proof. She’s been asked _that_ before, but only ever by men, with their disgusting leering grins and hopeful eyes.

Harry just nods. “I didn’t mean to snap,” she begins, “not just half an hour ago, someone called me a dyke in derogatory way. So any time that word is mentioned to me, I associate it with someone being horrible about it.”

“Understood,” Louis says. “Li, I’ve got this, you go home. Order something good for tea, yeah? I’m starving.”

Liam glances between them but nods. She leans over and kisses Louis’ cheek and disappears. 

The sale goes quickly. Harry slides her card back into its spot in her purse, all without making any further eye contact with Louis. 

She doesn’t like making people uncomfortable. But she can’t help but stand her ground with this particular word. It’s always been thrown at her like an insult, always used as a slur.

“Liam didn’t mean any disrespect,” Louis says, her voice startling Harry. 

Harry finally looks up. 

“You don’t think that she’s ever been called a dyke before? As a slur, I mean. She looks butch. She knows it, I know it, and you know it. But Liam is taking that word back. Reclaiming it as her own.”

Harry sucks her lips between her teeth for a moment before letting out a breath. “I appreciate that. That she’s able to do that. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be there. I get called a dyke in a derogatory way at _least_ once a week.”

“Shit, what do you even do?” Louis asks. She crosses her arms over her chest. The action makes her arm muscles even more prominent. 

“I work in real estate,” Harry replies as she wanders back over to her bike. She opens the back part of her bike and pulls out her helmet. She stuffs her handbag into the now empty spot and closes it shut. “There’s a lot of men who think I don’t deserve to be where I am in my career, and that being a _dyke_ is the only thing that makes male developers interested in me.”

“That sounds shit,” Louis says. “I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

Harry shrugs like it doesn’t hurt. But it does. On some level, it always will.

“Wait…” Louis says. Suddenly, her face lights up. “You sold my sister her penthouse six months ago! I thought I recognised your name.”

Harry can’t help but smile back at Louis, who has the most beautiful smile Harry has ever seen. If she wasn’t taken, Harry would ask her out for drinks. And maybe a good night of sex. With arms like that, Harry is certain they’d both have a good time.

“Who’s your sister?” Harry asks, trying to get her head back in the conversation and not think about shagging her mechanic.

“Lottie Tomlinson,” Louis replies. 

“Oh, she’s an Instagram influencer, right?” Harry asks, remembering. She liked Lottie. She knew exactly what she wanted, what she was willing to pay, and she didn’t mess Harry around like some people do. It was a dream transaction, if she remembers correctly. That had a _beautiful_ commission cheque attached to it.

“Yeah,” Louis replies. “Among other things, like YouTube, and beauty, but hey, it got her that flat.”

“That’s a nice flat,” Harry agrees. “She was really happy with it. Love at first sight.”

“She raved about you for weeks,” Louis says. “She told everyone she knows about you.”

Harry can’t help but chuckle. “That part I know,” she says. “I’ve got clients coming out of my ears because of her recommendation. I’m really glad she still loves her place. She has great taste.”

“She’ll be happy to know that,” Louis replies. Her voice is softer now. Probably because she’s thinking of her sister. Harry gets like that when she talks about Gemma’s achievements, too.

“Thanks for fixing my bike,” Harry says. “And tell Liam I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at her.”

Louis shrugs. “She’ll be fine. Sometimes words come from places of love.”

“Words also have the power to hurt,” Harry replies. “But I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you again.”

She swings a leg over her bike and almost sighs with relief at how _good_ it feels to be on her bike again. 

She pats the side of her bike and grips the handle in her left hand, practically giddy with how exciting it is to have her bike back. 

“You look like all of your Christmases came at once.”

Harry looks over at Louis, unable to stop smiling. “I really missed this thing.”

“Do you ride long distance often?”

Harry shrugs. “I try to make to Cheshire a few times a month to see my parents. Why’s that?”

“You might want to think about getting a better bike for long distance,” Louis replies, patting the handlebar. “Something that isn’t as flaky as a Harley Davidson.”

Harry can’t help but pout. “But I love my bike.”

Louis laughs, not unkindly. “I get it, believe me, I do. But I make the trip over to Doncaster a few times a month, too, and I barely have to work on my bike at all. You’d have to get your bike serviced a lot, yeah? With something a bit more reliable you wouldn’t have to do that as often.”

“…I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Louis smiles at her once more and then moves over to the other side of the shop where an electric blue motorbike is parked. Somehow, it’s _completely_ fitting for Louis, Harry thinks. 

She can’t help but stare for a few moments as Louis does up her dungarees again and slips on a leather jacket. The movement is fluid, one born from years of practice. Louis looks so _strong_ as she swings her leg over the seat to sit on her bike. 

Louis’ bike purrs to life, and that reminds Harry that she is still sitting there, just _staring_ lustfully at Louis. She pulls on her helmet and starts her own bike.

She waves once to Louis and then rides off into the sunset.

~*~

“Maybe you should look into it, love. She’s the mechanic, she knows what she’s talking about.”

Harry pats the ground where she’s just planted another bulb for her mum. They’re in the garden, something that Harry likes to do to de-stress, but since she doesn’t have a garden of her own, coming to her Mum’s is the next best thing.

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry mumbles. She pulls off her gardening glove and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling the sweat gathering there already.

The sun is high in the sky, beating down on them, and not a single cloud is in sight. Harry shoves her glove back on and reaches for the next set of bulbs, intent on getting this done before they stop for lunch.

It’s always so relaxing coming and seeing her mum. The ride to Cheshire is always nice. Nothing beats being out on the open road on her motorbike, Harry thinks. But ever since her conversation the night before with Louis the mechanic, Harry can’t help but think that maybe she’s right – maybe she _should_ get a different motorbike for long distances. She can keep her Harley Davidson for riding around London, but she feels like she owes it to her safety, and the seemingly lack of reliability of her Harley, to try.

“Want to stop for a drink, sweetheart?” Anne asks. She adjusts her big, floppy sunhat and gives Harry a warm smile.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry replies. She pats the soil around the bulb she’s just planted and gets up, her knees protesting at the movement. She slides off her gloves once again and follows her mum inside. 

Anne pours them a cold glass of water each and Harry greedily drinks it. She didn’t realise how warm it was, and how much she’s feeling it until she took her first sip.

“The garden is looking really good, Mum,” Harry says, turning to look out of the window at their handiwork.

“Thank you,” Anne says, pride evident on her face. “Robin and I have been working hard over the last few weeks.”

Harry loves that about her parents – they work well together, even after all of these years of marriage. She wants that, one day. It’s what Niall and Zayn have, and her mum and step-dad have. Even Gemma has it, even though her marriage is relatively new still. 

But it makes Harry _want_. 

And that isn’t something she’s really thought much about before. Just that wanting. 

She loves working. Loves the flexibility of her life, and being able to make her own rules. She loves that the most. But occasionally, she thinks it might be nice to come home to someone. Or cook someone else dinner. Someone other than Niall or Zayn. 

She catches herself and shakes her head. She sets down her glass of water and puts her hat back on.

“Let’s get back to it. I want to get the rest of the bulbs planted before Dad gets home.”

“Good idea,” Anne agrees. She puts her hat on, too, and they make their way back into the garden.

Sweat immediately begins to pool on the back of Harry’s neck. She spares a moment to be thankful she put her hair up earlier. She’d hate to have it down and have strands sticking to her skin and making her even hotter. 

By the time Robin gets back from the market, Harry’s back is protesting along with her knees. She gets up, muffling a groan of discomfort, and wipes the back of her hand across her brow.

“Hello, pumpkin,” Robin says in greeting as he wanders into the back garden.

“Hey, Dad,” Harry replies. She gives him a massive hug and a kiss on the cheek when she’s close enough.

“Oh, you’ve got dirt on your face,” Robin says. He gestures to Harry’s forehead and she just shrugs.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got it in my bra at this point,” she replies. He smiles fondly at her.

“I’ll get started on dinner,” he says. “You girls go clean up.”

Harry and her mum clean up their mess, washing their tools, and putting them back in the garden shed. Harry has to admit – they’ve done some good work today. She’s quite proud of their progress. There are a few other things that Anne will do on her own, but on the whole, they’ve managed to plant several bulbs in the ground, as well as repotting some of the old, root bound plants that Harry had planted about a year ago.

“Good work, love,” Anne says. She pats Harry on the shoulder, standing next to Harry to admire their work. 

“Damn, I forgot to plant the sweet peas,” Harry says with a frown.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anne says. “I’ll do it tomorrow while the soil is still soft.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asks, already pulling her gloves back on. 

Anne’s hand on top of hers stops her. “I’m sure,” she says, “now go inside and have a shower, you’re filthy.”

Harry gives her mum a small, grateful smile, and wanders back into the house. She toes off her gardening shoes, leaving them, dirt and all, on the laundry floor. She sighs and stretches, rolling her shoulders.

The shower is deliciously warm on her skin. She washes away the sweat, dirt, and grime of gardening. She can’t help but wonder just _how_ she managed to get dirt in her hair as she washes it. 

When she’s finished, she gets changed into her soft, old favourite pyjamas. She pulls the shirt to her nose, inhaling the familiar scent of the fabric softener that her mum has always used. She absolutely loves coming back home and spending time with her parents.

Dinner is delicious, and Harry eats more than she thought she would. The day’s work has definitely caught up with her. She insists on doing the dishes afterwards. So her parents take their glasses of wine and go and watch the evening news in the lounge room.

“Up for a game of Scrabble?” Robin asks when Harry joins them.

“Of course,” Harry replies. She sets her glass of wine down on the coffee table and pulls the game box from the cupboard it lives in.

The game is easy, familiar. Harry settles onto a cushion on the floor and sets out seven letters on her little stand, already thinking about what her first word will be.

Her mum wins the right to go first and she sets down a seven letter word straight away. Of course. She’s the best at this game. Robin keeps score, his pencil almost a stub from how often they’ve played this game. The piece of paper is worn, folded over and over to fit as many games onto the sheet as possible. The little score pads that came with the game have long since been used, so they resorted to using a folded A4 sheet of paper to keep track of their scores. 

Harry barely contains her smile as she sets down _jasmine_ , earning herself a nice score that puts her ahead of her parents. She grins into her glass of wine that has just been topped up and rests her arm on her bent knee. Her toes curl pleasantly into the soft carpet, still basking in her seven letter word.

The smirk is wiped off her face the moment her mum puts down _zephyr_ on a triple word score, pulling her score ahead of Harry’s. She has a long sip of her wine to wash down the sting of being pushed back to second place.

The game is fun, though. Her parents are a formidable team when they’re unified, but when they’re against each other, it makes for the best entertainment. They have no concept of trash talk and it’s thoroughly amusing to watch her dad go “beat _that_ ” to her mum only for Anne to, in fact, beat whatever Robin had set down, often using the letters he had placed to make three words, or even four.

When the game is over, Anne has won by twenty points. Harry is in second place, with Robin right behind her, but only six points less. She absolutely loves playing Scrabble with her parents. The only time it’s better is when Gemma is there with them playing.

“I think I’m done for the night,” Harry says, covering her mouth with her hand as she yawns widely. 

“I think we are too,” Anne says. 

Harry packs up the game while her mum takes their wine glasses into the kitchen. Harry follows a moment later, kissing her parents on their cheeks before wandering to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She falls into bed feeling soft, warm, and comforted by being around her parents in the house she grew up in. She’s out like a light before she even realises it.

The smell of breakfast cooking wakes Harry and her tummy makes a rumbling noise. A few minutes later, she makes her way down to the kitchen and gives her mum a sleepy kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, darling, did you sleep well?” Anne asks.

Harry nods. She makes herself a cup of tea and leans against the counter, sipping it, while her mum cooks. 

“What are you up to today, then?” Anne asks a short while later. 

Harry sets her empty cup down on the countertop and rubs at her eyes with her fists. “I need to get some groceries,” she replies. She yawns widely, her jaw cracking with the movement. “But I really should stop in at work and look through those resumes that I know Safaa left on my desk.” 

She can’t help but sigh, frustration setting in on her shoulders. She hates that she had to fire two people on Friday. Though it wasn’t the first time they had made disgusting comments, it was the first time she had solid _proof_ , and they said them to her – one of the managers. She knew she couldn’t let them just get away with a warning like they would have if it had been one of the male managers that had heard them.

It always falls to Harry to do what’s right, she thinks. It’s annoying. 

There’s a reason why she stipulated that if she was going to be a manager, she still wanted to be able to do the ground work of the other real estate agents. 

Really, her role as a manager isn’t even what the other managers do. It’s mostly just a title for her, but it’s one she deserves, and has earned through _years_ of hard work. 

She isn’t their top employee for nothing.

“And that can’t wait until Monday?” Anne asks.

She starts serving their food onto three plates. Harry quickly gets the cutlery out and sets it on the table. 

“Yeah, I mean, it probably can,” Harry replies. “But I’ve also got three showings on Monday morning. So if I do it tonight, that’ll be one less thing I have to do tomorrow.”

Anne clicks her tongue. Harry gets it – she thinks the same thing. None of the _men_ in the office would have to do what she does. They’d just hire whoever they wanted and be done with it. But not Harry. Everything has to get double and triple checked. 

It’s a source of endless frustration.

Her idea that she floated out to Niall the other night about starting her own agency is looking better and better by the day.

“Well, don’t overdo it,” Anne says.

Harry pours out three glasses of juice just as Robin walks into the kitchen, a newspaper tucked under his arm. She tucks into her breakfast as her parents sit down.

Before she leaves, Harry wants to plant the sweet peas. If anything, it will help take her mind off the work stuff she has to do when she gets back into London.

All too soon, Harry has finished in the garden. She’s a little dirty, but not like yesterday. She washes her hands, has lunch with her parents, and is climbing back on her motorbike, ready for the journey back home.

“Call me when you get home, please,” Anne says after giving Harry a tight hug. 

“Of course, Mum,” Harry replies. She kisses her mum’s cheek softly before she pulls on her helmet and starts up her bike. It rumbles to life underneath her and she puts her hands on the handlebar, gripping it firmly.

Anne and Robin wave Harry off and when she reaches the corner, she waves back at them. 

The ride home is thankfully not that long. Leaving early like she did means there isn’t as much traffic, and just over three hours later, Harry is pulling into a Sainsbury’s car park and getting off her bike. Her legs are a little wobbly for a few seconds as she walks, but she regains her footing quickly.

Her fridge is practically empty at home. Most nights Harry orders in from various places. The take away shops closest to her flat know her by name, which is both sweet and a bit sad on her part. But she eats healthily, so she can’t really complain. She just needs the basics at home. And she’s definitely run out of tea. And possibly tampons. She isn’t sure. Better safe than sorry and all that.

As Harry is wandering up and down the aisles, filling the basket on her arm, her mind wanders back to Friday afternoon.

She hasn’t told Niall what happened yet, but she knows that Safaa will probably mention it at their weekly Sunday family dinners at Zayn and Safaa’s parents’ house. 

The moment Harry rounds the corner to the feminine hygiene products, she almost crashes into someone.

“Whoa, steady there,” a soft, familiar voice says.

Harry glances up from the list on her phone to see Louis standing in front of her. She has one hand on her trolley, and the other is carefully holding onto Harry’s forearm that doesn’t have the basket on it, keeping her from falling over.

“Hi,” Harry says stupidly. She can’t help but smile at Louis’ expression. 

“Alright, Curly?” she asks.

Harry nods. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“Happens to the best of us,” Louis replies.

She looks even more gorgeous than the last time Harry saw her, if possible. Harry’s gaze rakes over Louis’ soft expression, taking in the slope of her nose, to her thin, naturally pink lips. 

Her hair is down today, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. Harry wants to reach out and push it back. She doesn’t know what it is about this woman, but she’s absolutely enamoured with her.

“Ooh, milk, thanks for reminding me. Liam will have my head if I don’t bring any milk back home with me,” Louis says, interrupting Harry’s thoughts as she peers into Harry’s basket.

Right. Liam. 

How could Harry forget that Louis was involved with someone else? She bites back a sigh and gives Louis a small smile.

“Erm, you’re welcome?” Harry offers. 

Louis grins at her. “How’s your bike?” she asks.

Harry nods. “It’s good,” she replies, “yeah, I just got back from Cheshire. Figured I’d stop in and get some basics before work tomorrow.”

Louis’ eyes practically twinkle as she looks up at Harry. God, she wants to kiss her. Shit. That isn’t a good thought to have while standing in front of someone who is very much in a relationship. 

“Yeah, me too. Well, I didn’t just get back from Cheshire, but we’re out of bread and milk at home. Thank god Liam cooks because I have no idea what I’d do for dinner otherwise. I’m absolutely rubbish at cooking.”

Harry can’t help but smile at Louis’ rambling. She’s absolutely endearing.

“So your bike made the journey okay? No mishaps?”

Harry shakes her head. “None whatsoever,” she replies. She shifts the basket from one arm to the other. “I might take you up on your advice, though.”

Louis cocks her head. “Yeah? Thinking of getting another bike?”

Harry shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah,” she begins, “it makes sense. And you’re the mechanic, after all, so you know what you’re talking about.”

The smile that crosses Louis’ lips makes Harry’s stomach flip. It’s been so long since she was attracted to someone like this. Not just based on looks, but Louis’ personality is really starting to shine through. Even though they’ve only had a couple of conversations, Harry feels like they could be good friends given the chance.

“I have two bikes,” Louis starts, “the blue one you saw, my Yamaha. But for longer distances, I have a Honda. You should swing by the shop and I can show it to you.”

“You keep it at the shop?” Harry asks, trying _not_ to focus on the fact that Louis is _inviting_ her to the shop where she works.

“Nah, I keep it at home,” Louis replies, “but I can bring it into the shop if I know you’re coming by. I could take you out for a ride. It has a back seat you can sit on. Liam’s often my passenger when we go home to visit Mum. Well, when she _wants_ to ride instead of drive. Which isn’t often. How I got lumped with someone who doesn’t like to ride bikes that often is _beyond_ me.”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agrees. “I’d love that. When would you like me to come by?”

“Whenever you’re free,” Louis says. She reaches into her pocket and produces a slim phone. She unlocks it and passes it to Harry. “Pop your number in here and we can arrange a time if you like?”

Harry quickly punches in her number, followed by the motorbike emoji, just because she can. Louis grins when she accepts her phone back. Her thumbs fly across the screen and a moment later, Harry’s phone pings in her pocket.

“Now you have my number, too,” she says, looking at Harry with those gorgeous blue eyes that crinkle around the edges when she’s smiling.

Harry very much wishes that Louis was single so that she could ask her out on a date. She thinks that she’d enjoy getting to know Louis as a friend, and maybe a girlfriend. And she thinks that she’d _definitely_ enjoy smooching her a little bit.

“Well, I’d better go,” Louis says after a beat of silence. Harry nods. 

“Yeah, I’d better get tampons.” She immediately regrets saying it, but Louis just gives her a knowing smile.

“It’s an evil necessity,” she replies, her hand gently falling onto Harry’s forearm, patting it twice. “Have a good night, Curly. I’ll message you soon.”

“You too,” Harry says. Louis steps around her and wanders off towards the fridges. Harry can’t help but watch her walk away.

While she isn’t in those fantasy inducing dungarees right now, her jeans _do_ cling nicely to her shapely bum. Harry’s tongue darts out to lick her lips as she watches for a few moments before she shakes her head and forces herself to walk away.

It’s of no use lusting after someone who is taken. That _never_ ends well.

~*~

Monday is the ninth circle of hell. Tenth? Eleventh? Whatever the one is that people talk about, this is _beyond_ that, Harry thinks.

When she sees Safaa as she walks into the office, she immediately knows that there is something wrong. 

“I’ve cancelled all of your bookings,” Safaa says. She passes Harry a cup of tea and shoots her a sympathetic look, her warm brown eyes conveying her sorrow.

“Do I want to know?” Harry asks, bringing the mug up to her lips. 

And to think she thought today might not be _that_ bad.

“Richard wants you in his office the moment you get here, so…” Safaa shrugs one shoulder. Harry closes her eyes for a brief moment.

“Hey, can I get you to do me a favour?” she asks, leaning against the edge of Safaa’s desk with her leg. Richard can damn well wait, she thinks.

“Of course,” Safaa replies, her fingers poised above her keyboard, ready.

Harry chews her bottom lip for a moment. “Actually, can you just message Zayn for me and say thanks for the recommendation on the mechanic? My bike works perfectly now.”

Safaa nods. Harry slips her phone from her pocket, checks the time, mentally sighs at the fact that she’s going to have to apologise to her clients that Safaa had to cancel appointments with, and makes her way to Richard’s office.

“Sit,” Richard says without any preamble. He’s a tall, intimidating, old white guy. His hair is, surprisingly, still mostly on his head, a fact that he takes great pride in. His tummy has pooched with age, but Harry’s noticed that happens to a lot of older men.

But he’s _her_ boss, so she respectfully takes a seat on the opposite side of his desk.

“We have a problem.”

Harry crosses one of her legs over the top of the other and rests her mug on her thigh, waiting for Richard to continue.

“Jason Wells and Simon Grant are trying to sue for unfair dismissal,” Richard begins, peering over the tops of his glasses at Harry. “Care to explain?”

“You got the email,” Harry replies easily. “This isn’t the _first_ time that these two specific _ex_ -employees have made crass remarks about their superior. And if I hadn’t got them recorded saying the things they did, or interrupted them when I did, they would have said a lot worse.

“And I also know that _three_ junior staff have filed sexual harassment claims against them and yet nothing has happened.”

Richard levels her with a look. “Harry, you have to understand. We have a lot of work on our hands–”

“Work that _I_ have brought in,” Harry interrupts.

“And besides you, _they_ are our best agents.”

Harry snorts indelicately. “ _Niall_ is our next best agent,” she replies. “And if you gave Malika, Tasha, or Gwen an _actual_ chance, they could show you that they are _twice_ the employees that Jason and Simon are. But you _don’t_ for some unknown reason.”

“You’re not making this easy, Harry.”

“Good.”

Richard sighs. He takes his glasses off and sets them down on his desk with a clatter. Harry takes a sip of her drink.

“They want me to fire you.”

The tea in Harry’s mouth turns sour. She swallows thickly.

“Excuse me?” 

Richard nods. He reaches for his glasses and cleans them with the end of his shirt. Harry hasn’t seen him so… unravelled before. He glances over at her and slips his glasses back on his face. He leans his elbows on his desk and peers at her.

“They want you fired,” Richard repeats. “Something about discriminating against them–”

“For _what_?” Harry barks. “ _They_ are the ones who are insubordinate, _and_ have had sexual harassment claims filed against them! They should be lucky that all I did is fire them.”

Richard’s face becomes unreadable.

“Well, until I can sort all of this mess out, I’m going to have to ask you to take some leave.”

“…”

Harry’s mouth gapes open.

“Are you kidding me?” she asks. It’s softer than she intends for it to be.

Richard nods. He looks sorry.

Harry isn’t exactly sure how _she_ became the villain in all of this, but she stands and looks down at her boss – the same man who was once her mentor.

“You’ll be three people down now, you do realise that?” she says. 

“You just pointed out three great candidates for replacements,” Richard replies.

“Good luck getting anyone to do the work that _I_ do.”

She opens his office door and walks out without closing it behind her. It’s a petty move, but it’s the only thing that she can do right now.

Harry grips the handle of her mug so tightly she thinks it’s going to break. She has no idea what to do now. 

Her work, her job, this career… it’s _everything_ to her. 

“…Harry?”

Harry looks up and sees Safaa’s worried expression filling her vision. 

“Let’s take a walk,” Harry says. She sets her empty mug down on Safaa’s desk and nods her head towards the lifts. 

They exit the building in silence and stop across the street at a café. 

“What’s going on?” Safaa asks, sounding worried.

“I’m being fucking _sued_ for wrongful termination,” Harry says, slumping in her seat. She covers her face with a hand, torn between crying and screaming.

“…Well. _Shit_ ,” Safaa says. 

Sometimes Harry forgets that she’s only twenty-three. She looks so young, sitting there across from Harry, worry etched on her face. 

“Richard has asked me to _take leave_ until he can sort this mess out.”

Safaa gasps. “But you’re the agency’s _best worker_.”

“Believe me, I know,” Harry says. Then, suddenly, “If I leave, will you come with me?”

“What?” 

“If I leave the agency,” Harry says, her mouth working faster than her mind. But now that she’s said it, she doesn’t want to take it back. “Would you come and work for me? I know you don’t want to be an assistant your whole life, but the pay would be great, and if you wanted to be a real estate agent, I would teach you _everything_ that I know. Would you come?”

“Yes,” Safaa says without hesitation. “I know I only got this job because I’m Zayn’s sister, but I’d follow you in a heartbeat.”

Harry smiles, relieved. “Niall’s in, too,” she says. “She’s ready to leave whenever I am. I just… I guess I feel like I owed Richard something since _he_ sought _me_ out and asked me to come and work for him.”

“Harry, if there’s one thing you’ve taught me in the time I’ve been working for you, it is that you owe _no man_ anything, not any moment of your career,” Safaa says. She places her hand on top of Harry’s. “I’m in it with you, no matter where you go.”

Harry beams at her. “Fantastic,” she says. “Obviously this stays between us and I don’t want you emailing or texting me about it. I don’t need anyone finding out until I’m actually in the process of doing it. But yeah. Wow. Fuck it. Fuck all of them. Richard can have Simon and Jason back. Even though they’re creepy dick jerks.”

Safaa giggles. “You’re crap at insulting people.”

Harry shrugs her shoulders. “Yeah, well, fuck them all. We’ll do this on our own. Just women and anyone who isn’t a cis gendered male.”

“I love the sound of that,” Safaa says. “I swear if Jim from accounting looks at my tits _one_ more time I’m going to sock him.”

“File a complaint,” Harry says seriously. “The more complaints Richard receives, the more he _has_ to do something.”

“I’ll let the other assistants know,” Safaa says. “You know, if you want to hit him where it _really_ hurts, I can name six other staff that will follow you like _that_.” She clicks her fingers. 

Harry’s eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Safaa nods. “Us assistants talk,” she says easily. “And the women in the office are _sick_ of doing twice as much work for half the pay that the men get. And don’t even get me _started_ on the racial pay gap, either.”

Harry leans back in her seat, her mind whirring. “I need to get in touch with a good lawyer,” she says slowly. “I don’t want any fallout from this. The last thing I need is Richard suing me for taking his staff or clients or anything.”

“I’ll get you a lawyer’s number before the end of the day,” Safaa says. “A girl I went to uni with has a sister who does contract law. She’ll be able to help.”

Harry smiles, feeling like she’s _actually_ accomplished something today. “Thank you,” she says. “Seriously, Safaa, thank you.”

Safaa shrugs and gives Harry an easy smile. “We women and marginalised people have to stick together.”

“We do,” Harry echoes. 

She can’t believe in the time it would’ve taken to see her first client of the day, she’s almost completely changed her entire world.

It feels _good_.

~*~

“Where the fuck were you today?” Niall says as a greeting when she opens the door to her house to let Harry in on Monday evening.

Harry sighs. “Can I have a glass of wine first?”

Niall nods. She pours Harry a glass of wine but Harry says ‘more’ and Niall lifts her eyebrow in Harry’s direction but fills Harry’s glass so it is three quarters full. They make their way to the lounge room and get comfortable. Harry tucks her legs underneath her body and sighs. 

And she tells Niall _everything_ that happened that morning. They’re by themselves at the moment, though Harry can hear Zayn’s voice coming from the bedroom. She’s speaking in Urdu, so Harry figures she’s on the phone to one of her family members. 

“Holy shitting _fuck_ ,” Niall exclaims when Harry’s finished. She gets up, grabs the bottle of wine and tops up both of their glasses. 

“I know,” Harry replies.

“ _Fuck_.”

“I know.”

“What are you going to do?” Niall asks.

Harry _beams_. And says; “want to come work for me?”

“ _Fucking yes_!” Niall exclaims. She all but throws herself at Harry, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck. “You’re doing it then? You’re going to start your own business?”

Harry nods. “Yeah,” she replies giddily. “Safaa is going to get me a number of her lawyer friend, and I’m going to work out the legalities. Just to make sure that there’s no come back from Richard or the agency.”

“Fuck him if there is,” Niall says emphatically. 

“I need to do it all above board and legal,” Harry says. “I don’t need to be sued the moment I open. I got Safaa to hold off on drawing up the contracts for Fisher’s building, too. That way, if it’s legal, I can take him and he’ll be my first client. 

“There’s some developers that I know will follow me, but there’s others that will, undoubtedly, remain loyal to Richard and his _men_. But I’m going to take absolutely _everyone_ with me that I possibly can.”

“Fuck me sideways,” Niall mumbles. She picks up her glass of wine and has a long sip. “I can’t believe it’s really happening.”

“Me neither,” Harry replies. “It’s… it’s a _lot_ , but after this morning? And after the bullshit on Friday, I’m _so ready_ to leave that place. To start something new. Make something of my own. You know?”

“I’m really proud of you,” Niall says. She places her free hand on top of Harry’s and squeezes. “This took guts.”

Harry’s lips quirk in a smile. “It’s not done yet. I’m trying to keep it as quiet as possible. But Safaa’s already told me that there’s at least six other agents that will come with me.”

“I know of four,” Niall replies immediately. “We’ve probably overlapped on a few, but I can think of four off the top of my head. Absolutely _everyone_ is sick of the Jasons and Simons of that workplace.”

“You and me both,” Harry agrees. She takes a long sip of her wine, feeling its warmth spread through her body. 

“Shit, I’d better order dinner,” Niall says, picking up her phone. “What do you feel like?”

“Indian?” Harry suggests. 

Niall nods and she orders them all dinner. 

Zayn wanders into the lounge room just as Niall finishes ordering their food. 

“Safaa says to tell you ‘it’s on’?” she says, raising her eyebrows in Harry’s direction. “And she has a number for a lawyer.” Zayn passes over a piece of paper with a name and number written on it.

Harry grins and grabs the paper, stuffing it into her pocket with her phone. 

“Why she can’t just tell you at work tomorrow is beyond me,” Zayn mumbles. She reaches for Niall’s glass of wine and has a sip. 

Harry tells Zayn the shortened version of events, and Zayn just stands there, looking surprised. She finishes Niall’s wine and goes to get another bottle.

“Shit, Haz,” Zayn says, sitting down on the sofa next to her. “That’s a _lot_.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry agrees. “But it’ll get me out of there, and it’ll really put it to Jason and Simon, which I’m really into right now.” She giggles. She’s probably drank too much wine too fast, and on an empty stomach, too. Whoops.

She sighs and leans into the sofa, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Food’s here,” Niall announces. Harry’s eyes snap open and she yawns. She stretches and follows her best friends into the kitchen where Niall is setting out the food onto the table. 

They dig in, all hungry and eager to eat. Harry purposefully forces herself to eat slower. She doesn’t want to rush and make herself unwell.

“Safaa passed on your message, by the way,” Zayn says after she’s swallowed a mouthful of curry. “About the mechanic I recommended. I’m glad Liam worked out.”

“Me too,” Harry agrees. Her mind automatically goes to Louis and she feels saddened by the fact that she’s taken.

“She swung by today during her lunch break,” Zayn continues, oblivious to Harry’s thoughts. “She did some more drawings over the weekend. I can’t get over how _good_ she is.”

Harry’s lips quirk into a smile. It’s not often that Zayn practically _gushes_ about someone’s artwork. She’s a harsh critic, so Liam must be good.

“She has an ace teacher, too,” Niall adds, putting more food onto her plate. She winks at Zayn, who just grins back at her.

They’re so adorable it hurts. 

“She has a date tonight and she’s proper nervous too,” Zayn continues.

“It’ll never not be weird to me that you have students who tell you these things,” Niall replies. 

Harry chews her food slowly. She’s not sure why Liam would be nervous to go on a date with Louis. Unless they’re newly together? Or it’s an anniversary of theirs. Oh. She could be proposing. Harry swallows thickly. She gets up and grabs herself a glass of water to wash down the lump in her throat.

“I couldn’t imagine telling any of my uni professors stuff about my personal life,” Niall continues.

Zayn shrugs. “Well, Liam and I _are_ the same age. It’s not that weird. And it’s not like _I’m_ the one going on a date with her.”

“Better not be,” Niall teases. She leans over and kisses Zayn quickly on the lips. 

Harry sits back down and focuses on their conversation. Her head is hurting a little, and she regrets drinking so much wine so quickly. She still has to get home yet, and she doesn’t want to be over the limit to ride.

“I met a girl,” Harry blurts out. 

Shit. She must be tipsier than she thought.

Both Niall and Zayn’s focus whips to her. 

“Details, please,” Zayn says, while Niall says, “What? In Cheshire?”

Harry bites her bottom lip. “No, no, I… it doesn’t matter. She’s already got a girlfriend.”

Niall visibly deflates, leaning back into her seat. “That’s a shame,” she says. “It’s been ages since you’ve had a girlfriend.”

“How do you know she’s seeing someone?” Zayn asks. Her tone is kind, which Harry appreciates right now. 

“They kissed in front of me,” Harry replies. “And one look at them you could tell they were together. It’s just my luck that I find a cute girl and she’s already taken.” She sighs. 

“I didn’t know you were looking for a girlfriend?” Zayn says, curiosity lacing her voice. “Niall and I know a bunch of single girls that you could go on a date with.”

Harry shrugs and takes the last bite of her food. “I’m not really. I just… She was cute. I wanted to ask her out, but I didn’t.” She has another drink of her water. “I don’t think it’s the right time, either. Not with all of these work changes.”

“It’ll _never_ be the right time if you don’t make time,” Niall says. She stands and clears their empty plates. Harry stands, too, and helps. 

They wash what few dishes there are and then all settle onto the sofa together to watch the television. Harry yawns into her hand not even half an hour later. She’s exhausted. Today has been _such_ a long day for her. And it’s only Monday. She doesn’t want to think about what this could mean for the rest of the week.

“I’m going to head out,” Harry says once their episode has finished playing. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Of course,” Zayn says. She reaches over and squeezes Harry’s hand. “Good luck, yeah? And let us know how everything goes.”

“Thanks,” Harry replies. She kisses both of them on the cheek and makes her way out of the house. She has a feeling she’s going to need all the luck she can get.

~*~

During the upheaval of her work life, Harry, somehow, managed to forget that she had given Louis her phone number.

It’s Wednesday afternoon when she receives a text saying ‘ _I have my Honda at the shop if you’re free to swing by?_ ’ and because Harry is currently on leave from work, she has time.

Not that she hasn’t had every single moment _packed_ with things to do, it’s just a different type of busy to what she usually is.

Once she had the number of the lawyer from Safaa, Harry immediately started making calls. She knew she had the means to start her own real estate agency. And she had the _perfect_ location since she was the number one seller for all of the local building developers. And more than a few people owed her favours, too. 

It was such a relief to know that Niall was on board. She had texted Harry all Tuesday with anecdotes of the staff members who missed her and it made Harry feel loved. Thankfully, both Niall and Safaa had both kept anything about Harry’s business ventures out of their messages, saving that for in person conversations. It wasn’t much but it helped. The last thing she wants is for Richard to find out what she’s up to and somehow put a stop to it.

It feels good, knowing that Niall is so enthusiastic and supportive of Harry starting her own business. Knowing that her best friend is with her means more than she’d ever be able to express.

True to her word, Safaa gave Harry a list of staff members that said they would follow Harry to a new agency. It felt _exhilarating_ knowing that she was really just a few steps away from making this dream a reality. 

The only thing Harry really needs now is a couple of investors. She has a few meetings set up off the books for Thursday and Friday, and she has a feeling that things are going to go her way, but until then, she needs to make her way to _Tomlinson and Sons Mechanics_ to see a girl about a bike.

Harry chews her lip as she slips on her helmet, trying not to get _too_ excited about seeing Louis. Nothing has changed, as far as she’s aware – Louis is still in a relationship, and Harry does not want to be a homewrecker. 

She reasons with herself that getting to know Louis as maybe a new friend isn’t going to hurt. She really does need to expand her social circle a little more. Plus, Zayn and Niall would probably like having another couple friend. Which would make Harry the fifth wheel, instead of the third, but two more friends is still two more friends. 

The ride to the shop is pretty quick, and Harry is soon parking her bike in a spot that is hopefully out of the way of any work they’re doing inside.

She wanders inside, holding onto her helmet with her hand. Because it’s early afternoon, the shop is a _lot_ busier than when Harry stopped in on Friday evening.

What surprises Harry the most is that almost everyone she sees is a woman. She can’t help but be surprised. But she also _loves_ it. Having a name like _Tomlinson and Sons Mechanics_ would mean men would automatically assume that there would be other men there working on the vehicles. It’s pretty genius, she thinks.

“Harry, hi.”

Harry looks up and she can’t help but smile as Louis steps into her line of sight. 

“Hi,” Harry replies. God she looks good, Harry thinks as she sweeps her gaze of Louis’ work dungarees – which really should not be _that_ appealing. But it has to be the fact that Harry can see her arms, tattoos and all. They look like such _strong_ arms, and Harry is a weak, weak lesbian.

“Let me just wash up and we can head out, if you like?” 

Harry nods. She watches Louis walk away and then turns to see several workers bent over cars, one underneath a car, two working on nearby motorbikes. 

It’s absolutely refreshing to see so many women working harmoniously in one place.

“Hey, Harry! How’s your bike?”

Harry looks over and sees Liam approaching her. She has a toolbox in hand that _looks_ heavy but Liam is holding it with ease. It’s just unfair how strong all of these women are, she thinks.

“It’s good,” Harry replies with a smile. Which causes Liam to smile back at her. She’s quite adorable when she smiles, Harry thinks. “I rode out to Cheshire to visit my parents and it ran like a dream. Thank you so much.”

Liam just nods, ducking her head a little. Like she doesn’t really get paid compliments that often. Harry’s mind flashes back to the conversation she and Louis had about Liam being stereotypically butch, and she figures that it’s true – Liam probably doesn’t get complimented a lot.

“It was nothing.”

“It was certainly not nothing,” Harry replies. “You saved my life. Honestly. I don’t have another mode of transport, and I had to use _slow_ taxis all week.”

Liam’s eyes crinkle in the corners when she smiles. “I’m just glad to help. And that Zayn recommended me.”

“Zayn raves about your artwork,” Harry says. She watches as a red blush spreads across Liam’s cheeks. 

“I just dabble.”

Harry shakes her head. “I’ve known Zayn for eleven years now, and she doesn’t just compliment _anyone_. No, seriously,” she says when Liam tries to protest. “I was all dressed up for my sister’s wedding and she all she said was ‘you could use less highlighter’.” Harry say, doing a bad impression of Zayn’s Bradford accent. She snorts to herself, remembering. She knows Zayn didn’t mean anything horrible by it, but it had still stung at the time. 

But she wants to get her point across to Liam – that she deserves to be complimented. She hopes that Louis compliments her all of the time. Louis looks like she’d compliment her girlfriend all of the time. And Harry loves that. People deserve more compliments.

“So, yeah, take it from me, she doesn’t say nice things just to say nice things,” Harry adds. 

“She’s a really good teacher.”

“And, hey, if you ever want to go into architecture, let me know,” Harry says. “I work with a _lot_ of developers, and there’s more than a few who are looking for new talent.”

“See, I’m always telling her that she’s wasting her talents here,” Louis says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

Harry’s heart thuds a little harder in her chest when she sees that Louis is wearing leather trousers, a soft blue shirt, and a leather jacket. 

Louis slings an arm across Liam’s shoulders and noisily kisses her cheek. “Hold down the fort while I’m at lunch?” she asks. Liam nods. She gives Louis an impossibly fond look and Harry immediately feels like she’s intruding on a private moment.

“Alright, love, call me if you need me,” Louis says. 

“Drive safe,” Liam says. 

Louis pats Liam on the bum and nods her head to Harry for her to follow. Harry licks her lips and follows along falling into step with Louis. 

“Hop on,” Louis says, and Harry climbs onto the back seat of the bike. 

It’s quite comfortable, all things considered. She grips onto the handholds as Louis starts the bike up. It’s not as loud as Harry was expecting, and she figures Louis must have done something to amend that. 

A moment later, they’re pulling out of the shop and are riding off. They drive along, weaving in and out of traffic with the ease of a seasoned rider. Harry feels _completely_ safe with Louis. Which is odd, considering she doesn’t really know her at all.

Harry is surprised when they stop a short while later, pulling up into a driveway of a nice looking house in Notting Hill.

“C’mon, I’m starving,” Louis says as she gets off the bike.

Bewildered, Harry follows behind her. Louis unlocks the front door and wanders in like she owns the place.

Which, Harry realises a moment later, upon seeing photos of Louis and Liam with various people lining the walls, is exactly what is going on. She swallows thickly, trying not to think about the fact that she’s in Louis and Liam’s house.

“You have a lovely home,” Harry says. She awkwardly holds her helmet in front of her and watches Louis putter around the kitchen.

Louis glances over her shoulder at Harry and grins. “Thanks,” she replies. “It was my granny’s. On Mum’s side. She passed away about ten years ago and left me this house. She wanted it to stay in the family. She was probably hoping I would have lots of kids, and well, as you can see, that hasn’t exactly happened.”

Louis looks so _comfortable_ here, Harry notices. Like at the shop, but here there’s more homely touches, and less noise. 

“Are you alright with a sandwich? That’s the extent of my cooking skills, sorry,” Louis says. Harry nods. 

“I can help,” she says.

“Nah, I’ve got it, Curly,” Louis replies. She winks at Harry and Harry’s stomach swoops pleasantly. “Ah, shit, I should’ve asked if you have any dietary restrictions. Liam’s always on at me about me bad manners.”

Harry shakes her head. “No restrictions or allergies.”

Relief crosses Louis’ face. “Aces. Would you grab drinks from the fridge?” she asks. “Glasses are in the end cupboard.”

Harry sets her helmet down in the doorway and crosses the room to take two glasses from the cabinet and pour them both a cold glass of water each. She sets them on the table just as Louis puts down two plates with sandwiches.

“So, what did you think of the bike?” she asks before taking a large bite of her sandwich.

Harry nods. “It was really good,” she replies. “A much smoother ride than I was expecting.”

Louis grins at her. “Just picture yourself riding that to Cheshire next time.”

It’s too easy for Harry to picture. She can see herself riding to visit her mum on that bike and even taking her mum for a ride on the back of it, especially now she’s experienced firsthand just how safe and comfortable it was. 

“Yeah,” Harry says slowly. “I think you’ve sold me on it.”

Louis positively _beams_ at her. “Yes! Another conversion.”

“Another?” Harry asks, sounding amused.

Louis nods. “Yeah, my little sister’s boyfriend got one after I took him for a ride,” she explains. “He works with us at the shop. He’s a good lad. Works really hard.”

“Does he love it?” Harry asks, taking another bite of her sandwich.

“Yeah, he does,” Louis replies. “When I take you back to the shop you can ask him about it, if you like?”

“I will, thank you,” Harry says. 

She falls silent as they continue eating. She can’t help but watch Louis. She’s not even doing anything overly exciting, just eating, and yet Harry thinks that she’s absolutely mesmerising. 

“So, how’s work for you?” Louis asks after she’s polished off her first sandwich. She reaches for a second and flicks her gaze up to Harry. 

“Erm,” Harry starts, “it’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” Louis replies, giving her an easy smile.

There’s something to be said about telling an almost stranger everything that’s been going on. She divulges _way_ more than she means to, and hastily asks Louis to promise not to say anything to anyone lest the wrong person find out. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Curly,” Louis says. And the thing is – Harry trusts her completely.

So she tells her that she’s actually really excited to start her own business. 

“Is it hard? Running your own business?” she asks Louis.

Louis nods and wipes her fingers on a paper napkin. “Yeah, it is,” she replies. “But it also _really_ beats working for any cis straight white man, that’s for sure.”

“I hear that,” Harry agrees.

“I loved my dad, but he was far more understanding than his dad was. My grandfather was a bit… well, he was a bigot, no two ways about it.”

Harry can’t help but snort at Louis’ bluntness.

“My dad’s bisexual,” Louis continues. “But because he married my mum and had kids – mind you, grandad _hated_ that he only had girls – but because Dad married a woman, all was forgiven.” Louis’ expression looks like she’s eaten something particularly sour. “I hated that his bisexuality was erased in my grandad’s eyes just because Dad married Mum. It was still a part of him. It didn’t just _disappear_ because he married someone he loved.”

“Your dad deserved better than that from his own father,” Harry comments. “My two best friends, Niall and Zayn, are bisexual. People assume they’re lesbians because they’re married. We’re forever correcting people.”

“It’s hard,” Louis says. “Because unless you’re butch like Liam, or are a twink, people just _assume_ you’re straight. That you’re _normal_ like them. They’re all just bigots who want to pigeonhole us into boxes to make themselves feel comfortable.”

Harry can’t help but smile at how passionate Louis is. 

“But yeah,” Louis continues. “My dad only hired marginalised people wherever he could. He didn’t want a workplace where intolerance was rampant. And I’ve tried to do the same. I think we have _one_ cis straight guy on the team. Everyone else is as queer as I am.”

“That sounds like a dream.”

Louis grins at her. “It really is,” she replies. “My sister’s boyfriend is transgender and he’s the absolute _sweetest_. I’m really happy she found him. She went through a bit of a rough patch, but he was definitely her silver lining.”

The story warms Harry’s insides and she suddenly wishes she was one of these people in Louis’ life – to be spoken about like Louis speaks about the ones she loves and cares for. It makes Harry’s heart ache a little. But in a good way. 

When they’ve finished eating, Harry clears their plates, rinsing them off and leaving them in the sink to be washed. 

“C’mon, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on in my spare time.” Louis touches Harry’s hand gently and Harry feels her pulse race at the contact.

She leads Harry outside and unlocks a garage by its side door. In the middle of the large space is the shell of a car. The bonnet is opened, revealing a half completed engine. Harry has zero knowledge about the upkeep of cars, but she can tell this is a nice one.

“Dad and I were working on this before he died,” Louis starts.

“Oh,” Harry says. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Louis replies, giving Harry a small smile. “It was five years ago, now, but it still feels like yesterday. He really liked fixing up old cars. We used to spend every Saturday morning out in the garage. My sisters would watch cartoons and Dad and I would be outside, working on cars until Mum called us in for lunch.”

She’s passionate when she talks, Harry notices. She’s animated and likes to talk with her hands, and it’s absolutely endearing. 

“He sounds like a wonderful guy,” Harry says when Louis falls silent. Louis glances up at her and nods.

“He is. Was. _Is_. I still have a hard time with it. I wasn’t biologically his, but he was the best dad a girl could ask for. And when I came out as gay, he just gave me a massive cuddle and told me that he would always love me. But if I brought home a girl who _didn’t_ like cars or bikes, well, that’s where he drew the line.” Louis’ laughter is soft and infectious. Harry can’t help but smile. She pretends not to watch when Louis lifts a hand to wipe at her eyes.

“Anyway,” Louis says, clearing her throat. “How do you feel about riding back into London?”

Harry’s eyes widen dramatically and she blinks. “Me?” she asks.

Louis nods. “Yeah,” she says. “The only way you’ll know for sure if you want to get a bike like that, is if you test drive it. And what a better way to test drive one than now?”

Harry doesn’t know what to say. She follows Louis inside and they both put on their leather jackets.

“Why me?” she finds herself asking. They’re still in the kitchen, Louis putting a couple of bottles of water in her backpack, presumably to take back to work with her.

“What?”

“Why are you doing all of this stuff for me? You don’t even know me?”

Louis’ lips quirk in a smile. “You give off good vibes,” she says. “And Liam’s mentioned you because of Zayn. She’s proper infatuated with Zayn, it’s so cute. I don’t think she’s ever liked learning as much as she does because Zayn is teaching her. And besides, like Liam said – it’s a bit rare to find another dyke who likes bikes.”

Harry can’t help but flinch at _that word_ being said so casually. Louis notices.

“Sorry,” she apologises. “I won’t use that word around you.”

“It…” Harry swallows. “It’s okay. You can use it. Just. Um. Maybe please don’t call me it?”

“Sure thing,” Louis agrees easily. “C’mon,” she says, tossing Harry the keys. “My lunch break ended twenty minutes ago.”

Harry squeaks and hastily fumbles with the keys. Louis just laughs. 

The ride back to the shop is just as smooth as the ride to Louis’ house. Harry absolutely loves the way the bike feels. She’s so comfortable riding it, and even the extra weight of another person riding with her hasn’t thrown her off like she thought it would.

By the time they pull back into the shop, Harry is one hundred percent certain that she’s going to get one.

“What did you think?” Louis asks after she takes off her helmet. She sets it down on the seat she just vacated and unzips her jacket. Harry can’t help but watch the movement with hungry eyes.

“Yeah, that was amazing,” she replies, tearing her gaze away from Louis’ physique. 

Louis bumps their shoulders together and smiles at her. “Come meet Shane,” she says. “He’ll give you his own testimonial.”

She follows Louis through the shop until they reach the back where someone is leaning over into a new looking car.

“This is Shane,” Louis says, patting the side of the car with a little more force than Harry expected. They look up and his gaze goes from Louis to Harry back to Louis. 

What Louis doesn’t expect is for Louis’ fingers and hands to start moving as she talks, and it takes her a beat to realise that Shane is deaf.

“This is Harry,” Louis says, gesturing to her. “I just took her for a ride on my Honda. She’s thinking of getting one.”

Shane replies. Harry watches his hands move faster than she has ever seen before.

Louis just grins. “He says he isn’t surprised that I’ve managed to convert another customer to the Honda.” 

Harry can’t help but smile. She turns her gaze to Shane. “Louis says that you love your bike.” She glances out of the corner of her eye to see Louis interpreting for her. “And I wanted to know – what’s the best and worst thing about it?”

Shane smiles easily and he signs back to Louis.

“The best thing,” Louis translates, “is that it doesn’t break down as much as my old bike. The worst part is Louis’ gloating. Hey! That’s uncalled for!” 

The smile on Louis’ face is kind, and Harry loves their easy banter. 

“Thank you,” Harry says to Shane. He signs his reply and Louis verbalises it for him.

“He says you’re welcome,” Louis says. “And to not let me bully you into getting a Honda _just_ because.” 

She gives Shane a wave when Louis does, and Louis touches her hand, leading her to the office that Harry visited the other day. 

“Here is the name and number of the dealership where I got my bike from,” Louis begins, passing Harry a card. “Tell them that Louis Tomlinson sent you and they’ll make sure that you get a good deal.”

“Thank you,” Harry says. She tucks the card into her pocket. “And thanks for the ride today. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” Louis replies. Her hand is gentle as it reaches out and touches Harry’s again. Their gazes lock and Harry’s pulse picks up. Louis really has the most captivating eyes, she thinks. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips and Harry can’t help but follow the movement. Louis opens her mouth to say something but they’re interrupted when Liam wanders into the office, all smiles.

“Hey! How was your ride?” she asks.

Louis’ hand leaves Harry’s and Harry misses the warmth already. It was barely a touch and Harry already wants more. 

But Liam’s presence in the small office forcefully reminds Harry that Louis is _very much_ taken and she takes a physical step back.

“It was good,” Harry replies. She clasps her hands behind her back and gives Liam a small smile. “I better go. I’ve got a meeting at three that I have to prepare for.”

The expression on Louis’ face becomes unreadable. “Don’t forget to stop by after you go to the dealership. I want to hear about it. But if you want me to come with you, I’m more than happy to.”

Harry nods. “Thanks,” she says. “I’ll keep that in mind. I hope you both have a lovely afternoon.”

Liam gives Harry a megawatt smile. “You too, Harry,” she replies. Harry has to wonder if she ever stops smiling. And if she would continue smiling at Harry like that if she realised that Harry has a massive, _massive_ crush on her girlfriend.

~*~

Everything changes on Friday.

The call comes through to Harry as she’s making herself a cup of tea.

She has investors. _Actual_ investors. People who believe that she’s worth the risk – that she can _do_ this. 

It fills her with a giddy feeling. She wants to tell someone straight away. 

Her thumb hovers over Louis’ number before she moves right passed it and calls Safaa. 

“Are you due to have lunch yet?” she asks upon Safaa answering the phone.

“…Any minute now, why’s that?” Safaa asks.

Harry can barely keep herself in check. “I hope you don’t have plans because I’m taking you out.” She rattles off the name of the place she wants Safaa to meet her and she makes her way to the agreed upon café. 

It’s a bit more upscale than the one she and Safaa went to at the start of the week, but it’s nice. And it’s crowded, which means there’s less chance of people overhearing their conversation.

Which Harry is grateful for when Safaa all but yells in excitement. She throws her arms around Harry, probably getting a mouthful of curly hair for her efforts, since Harry has her hair out of its usual bun for once. 

“Just tell me when to put my two weeks’ notice in and I _will_ ,” Safaa says emphatically as she sits back down. Her eyes dance as she looks at Harry, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. 

“I will,” Harry replies, squeezing Safaa’s hand back. “I’ve switched over to sick leave because I can’t get paid out for that. I’ve already been to the doctor’s and got a certificate. I may have laid it on a little thick and said I needed to take stress leave, but I got it and that’s what counts.”

Safaa nods, her dark ponytail bobbing with the movement. “Good. Suck that bastard completely dry. He doesn’t deserve to keep your sick leave.”

“I have almost an entire month stocked up,” Harry admits a little sheepishly. “But it gives me time to get the office organised, and to finalise everything with Wai, the lawyer you recommended.”

Safaa nods again. “Good, good,” she says. “Tell me more about what this place is like.”

Their food comes, so their conversation tapers off for a moment while they eat. 

“So, not to put a dampener on the mood,” Safaa begins after they’ve had their first mouthfuls of food. “But guess who is back at work?”

Harry looks up, swallowing thickly. “No…”

Safaa nods. “Yep,” she replies. “Simon and James started back this morning. Well, they were there yesterday, but they were in with Richard most of the day. So I’m not sure if that counts.”

Harry leans heavily back in her seat. “That bastard,” she mutters. Then, louder, “I can’t believe he let them have their jobs back! Not only does that _completely_ undermine me as a manager, but it also tells the rest of the staff that they, too, can get away with the things that those idiots said and did with _no_ repercussions.”

She feels sick now, knowing that. She stabs her fork angrily into her food and forces herself to eat. She missed breakfast because she had such an early start, but her stomach is tight at the news that Richard is essentially choosing two dick-bag workers over _her_ – his best employee.

Safaa nods and she keeps talking. Harry pays attention as she forces herself to eat her food, but it tastes like cardboard in her mouth now.

Eventually, she’s eaten enough to keep her going for a few hours, so she sets her cutlery down on the table and looks up at Safaa.

“Feeling like a rebel?” she asks.

Safaa perks up. 

“Take the afternoon off and come see the office space with me?” Harry suggests. She’s probably being inappropriate asking Safaa to do this, but Safaa just grins at her, and Harry knows that she’s in.

“I can’t _wait_ to see Richard’s face when he realises that you’re leaving him for good,” Safaa says after she swallows her last mouthful of food.

“You and me both,” Harry agrees, smiling down at her hands.

“Also,” Safaa starts, gesturing with her hand to Harry’s torso, “I’m _loving_ this look. You haven’t shown this much cleavage in a while. Do you have your eye on someone?”

Harry glances down to where her button up shirt is half-way undone. It’s a tactic she uses when she _wants_ things but has no actual power to get it. She’s found that people, men specifically, will do a lot for a bit of side-boob seeing. 

Plus, it makes her feel empowered and sexy. 

But also, she’s hoping to run into Louis later. Not that Safaa needs to know that yet. So she just shakes her head.

“No. Well. Um. Not really? Sort of?”

“You’re _blushing_ , Harry,” Safaa says gleefully. “Tell me all about her?”

“She’s already in a relationship,” Harry explains, unable to keep the sad lilt out of her voice. “But she’s becoming a really good friend. We’ve been texting a bit. She has an awesome sense of humour. And she’s also into motorbikes.”

“So you have a crush on your mechanic?” Safaa deducts far too easily for Harry’s liking.

Her blush deepens and Safaa just grins at her.

They finish off their drinks, and while Safaa returns to work to claim sickness and collect her things, Harry waits outside for her, texting Niall a series of smiley faced emojis, hoping that she’ll understand what Harry’s getting at without her actually having to say it.

The office space is pretty bare right now, but once Harry has had it painted and furniture put in, she knows it will be so much better.

“This is amazing,” Safaa says as she wanders around. “That’ll be your office yeah?” She points to a far corner office and Harry nods.

“Yeah,” she replies. “But I’ll be the only one with an office. I like the idea of an open plan area. I want to reinforce a cohesive work environment. None of this competitive bullshit that goes on at our – at the other place,” she corrects herself.

She can envision it all perfectly. How she wants everything, where everything is going to go. And who she wants working here, too.

It’s exciting to think that in a few short months, this place will be up and running and a fully functioning real estate agency. 

She _can’t wait_.

“I’m really proud of you, Harry,” Safaa says as they walk down the street after finishing their little tour of the place. “You didn’t let the bullshit of those guys get you down. You took an opportunity and you ran with it. Not everyone would do that.”

Harry goes to thank Safaa for her kind words but they dry up in her throat when she sees Richard blocking their path.

“So,” he says, an unreadable expression on his face. “You think you can start an agency and I _wouldn’t_ find out?”

“Not at all,” Harry says coolly. “I just wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”

Richard’s gaze flicks to Safaa. “Well, you’re obviously fired,” he says to her.

“On what grounds?” Harry demands. “Safaa hasn’t done _anything_ wrong.”

“She’s clearly _not_ sick for a start,” Richard begins.

“Then you need to fire Bob, Andrew, Christian, and Sebastian for all taking last Friday afternoon off – claiming they were sick when they weren’t,” Harry retorts. “Safaa and I just bumped into each other. She said she wasn’t feeling well, so she left work. Those are _not_ grounds to be fired on. Unless you want an unfair dismissal lawsuit on your hands.”

Richard levels Harry with a look. “I know what you’re playing at,” he says. “And I just want you to know, if you keep playing this game, I will ruin you.”

“You can try,” Harry replies, her tone unwavering. Richard wants to see her tremble – he wants to see her slip up and show weakness. She isn’t going to let that happen.

Richard opens his mouth to say something, but Harry just steamrolls right over him.

“I heard you gave Simon and Jason their jobs back?” she says, her gaze still firmly planted on Richard’s face. “So leaving work because someone felt unwell is a fireable offence, but having multiple sexual harassment claims, as well as a voice recording proof of the derogatory things being said about a _manager_ isn’t a fireable offence? That’s nice to know, Richard. Really nice to know.”

Richard’s mouth opens and closes in a perfect impersonation of a fish.

Harry hasn’t even seen him so lost for words. It’s kind of exhilarating if she’s honest.

Then, Richard’s gaze hardens. “Might I remind you that you’re _nothing_ without my agency. My contracts are iron clad so you can’t take any of the clients you’ve brought in.” 

“Might I remind you that Simon and Jason are _far_ more of a liability than you’re willing to admit? You need to pick your battles, Richard.”

“While you’ve been busy playing pretend, thinking that you can start up a competing agency, I’ve been working with the developers that you’ve brought in. You know Fisher? The deal you just closed with him last week? He’s _definitely_ not interested in letting you take his building to some new _inexperienced_ agency. He’s much happier remaining with me. The boys will be more than able to sell those flats in the three months you’ve bragged you can sell them in,” Richard says. 

His smile is nasty. Cruel, even.

Harry just gives him a megawatt smile of her own. “Good luck with that,” she says, falsely positive. 

With that, she stalks passed him. Safaa quickly falls into step beside her and wordlessly reaches out to take Harry’s hand in her own. She’s grateful for the support. Safaa knows that Harry was hoping that was her big gun. That Fisher’s building would be her first big sell and that everything else would come easily afterwards.

Richard knows he’s hit her where it hurts. But she can’t let _him_ know that. It’ll just reinforce his ideas that he’s right.

“I’d better go see Wai,” Harry says once they’re far enough away from Richard. “You’d better just go home.”

“I’ll come with you, Harry,” Safaa says, but Harry shakes her head. 

“No, I’m fine. I’ll catch a taxi and I’ll call you later to fill you in on everything.”

Safaa’s lips quirk like she wants to protest but in the end, she just nods. “Alright,” she says. She closes the distance between them and gives Harry a massive hug. “I believe in you.”

“Thanks.” 

Harry flags down a taxi and offers it to Safaa first. She takes the next one and leans her head heavily against the seat. She closes her eyes and tries to collect her thoughts. 

The last thing she needs is Richard being a thorn in her side while she tries to close the deal with her investors and ruining everything for her.

~*~

Sleep doesn’t come easily for Harry that night. She spends most of her time worrying and planning and worrying some more.

There isn’t any point in her having an agency if she can’t get developers on her side. And, well, with the developers, it’s always been a boys’ club. 

It makes Harry feel sick.

Her phone lights up with yet another notification, but instead of it being something work related, like she expects, she sees that Louis has shared a video with her. Harry swipes with quick thumbs, watching the silly video of Liam making a ‘baa’ noise at a goat, and the goat actually going ‘baa’ back to her. 

Liam’s laughter at the end as she stares right at the camera fills Harry’s heart with warmth. 

_What are you doing up so late?_ Harry texts.

**I just got back from a trip with the twins’ school. They’re in year eleven and yet they STILL get to go on school excursions. How cool is that?** Louis replies.

_That’s pretty cool. Where did you go?_

**A little wildlife park. I literally don’t know why they had to go there for school, but it was fun.**

Harry smiles to herself as she lies there, texting Louis. It takes her mind off her earlier run in with Richard. That still stings, but she’s determined not to let it hold her back.

Her conversation with Louis turns from the excursion, and Liam’s subsequent bonding with a goat, to motorbikes. And Harry has to admit to Louis that she hasn’t had a chance to go to the dealership that Louis told her about yet. 

As she’s typing out a response, her phone starts buzzing in her hand with an incoming call. From Louis, strangely enough.

“Hello?” 

“ _You sound sad in your texts_ ,” Louis says without preamble. “ _What’s up?_ ”

“I sound _sad_ in my texts?” she repeats.

Louis chuckles. It’s warm and makes Harry wish that she were here with her. “ _I grew up with far too many sisters. I know when things are wrong._ ”

Harry sighs. She bites down on her bottom lip. And then tells Louis everything. From Richard giving Simon and Jason their jobs back, to running into him today while she was with Safaa, to losing what she was hoping would be her biggest client at her new agency. It all just comes tumbling out. 

And Louis, bless her soul, stays silent and patient as Harry vents to her. 

“ _That sounds tough_ ,” Louis says when Harry falls silent.

“Yeah,” Harry says forlornly. She rubs at her eyes with her free hand and rolls over, facing the empty space in her rather large bed. What she would give to have Louis filling that spot.

“ _Get dressed_ ,” Louis says. “ _I’m coming to pick you up._ ”

“What?” Harry asks, blinking. Her brain is so tired that she must have heard wrong.

“ _Put some knickers on, and, well, other clothes too, it’s cold tonight,_ ” Louis starts, “ _and maybe give me your address, too, so I can come and get you. We’re going out._ ”

Harry blinks. She pulls her phone away from her ear to look at the time. “It’s one in the morning,” she says.

“ _And yet, you’re still awake,_ ” Louis points out. “ _C’mon. Text me your address. I’ll be there in a minute._ ”

So Harry does. She texts Louis her address and then proceeds to have a little bit of a freak out. Her place is a little bit of a mess. She hastily pulls on some clothes, foregoing a bra in favour of pulling on a warm jumper, but then she takes that off, pulls on the button down shirt she had on earlier and slips on her leather jacket. She has a feeling that they’ll be riding Louis’ bike and a jumper won’t keep her safe or warm on a motorbike that is exposed to the elements.

By the time she’s pulled on her boots, her buzzer is sounding. She hastily grabs her keys and some money and dashes out of the door. The ride in the lift down to the lobby is the longest of Harry’s life.

But when the doors open, Louis is standing there, looking like an absolute dream. Her smile warms Harry right down to her toes. 

“C’mon, Curly,” she says, nodding her head towards the doors. Harry is helpless but to follow her.

She was right to put on her leather jacket, as Louis has her bike – not her Honda that is clearly built for two people, but her Yamaha. Harry licks her lips as she processes what this implies.

Louis gets on first and she passes Harry a helmet that Harry jams over her head. Her hair curls into her ears and she curses herself for not tying her hair back beforehand. She gets on the bike behind Louis and tries not to let her breath stutter in her throat when Louis takes one of her hands and puts it on her hip.

There are probably hand holds that Harry could hold on to, but she puts her hands on either sides of Louis’ hips and holds on tight.

The motorbike sounds loud in the dark of the night. It’s probably going to piss of some of her neighbours, but Harry doesn’t care. Her body is impossibly close to Louis’ as they ride, zipping down mostly empty streets. Harry feels so safe with Louis, knowing that she’ll never let anything happen to her.

They come to a stop sooner than Harry expects. Louis shuts off the engine and taps Harry on her thigh. She quickly gets off the bike and then Louis does, too. 

“C’mon, let’s go inside.” 

Harry looks behind her. It’s a small diner that’s still open, its neon lights far brighter than Harry has ever seen from a diner before.

She follows Louis inside, letting the door close behind her with a soft thud. It smells vaguely of cooking oil, but it’s rather clean looking.

A dark skinned waitress wearing an apron comes out of the back area, glancing down at her notepad. “You can sit wherever,” she begins, but when she looks up, her face breaks out into a smile. “Louis! Hello, love! How are you?”

“I’m good, Leigh, how are you?” Louis replies with an easy smile. 

Harry watches as they exchange pleasantries. She wonders if Louis gets on with everyone she ever talks to. It’s not hard to imagine. Everyone seems to love Louis. 

“Have a seat, babes, I’ll come get your order in a minute,” Leigh says as she passes over two laminated menus. Louis nods and she heads to a back corner booth. Harry slides in opposite her, setting her borrowed helmet down on the bench next to her.

“I’ve never been here before,” Harry admits, accepting the menu from Louis.

Louis smiles at her. “Liam and I used to come here a lot with Dad when he was alive,” she starts. “But it’s been a while. This was his favourite diner.”

Harry looks around, taking in the slightly weathered look of the place. It’s not falling apart, but it looks cosy. Homely, even.

“Are you hungry?” Louis asks. “They do a really good toasted sandwich.”

Harry’s gaze drops back to her menu. “I might just get a hot chocolate,” she says, scanning the list of foods available to order. “I’ve felt a bit queasy ever since running into Richard.”

“Don’t let that tosser put you off,” Louis says. “Tell you what, you can have some of mine because I’m ordering two. I’m pretty hungry. I didn’t eat much when we were out.”

“Thanks,” Harry replies. Leigh comes over a moment later and takes their order, Louis placing it for them.

“Anything else?” Leigh asks.

Louis glances at her and Harry shakes her head. “No, thanks, love.”

“I’ll be back in a bit with your food.” She throws them a wink and wanders off into the kitchen.

“Feel better yet?” Louis asks. 

“A little,” Harry replies honestly.

“Good,” Louis says. “Here, let me show you the twins getting chased by a goat. It was hilarious.” She pulls out her phone and angles it so it faces Harry. She presses play and the video starts.

Harry lets out a loud laugh, and she immediately claps her hand over her mouth, watching the screen intently. One of the girls, she’s not sure who is who yet, is being chased by a goat. She’s running, squealing, and Louis, who is recording, is shaking with laughter. 

“That’s going to be aired at their twenty-first for sure,” Louis says with a grin. “Here’s one of the same goat trying to eat Daisy’s jumper earlier.”

They watch the next video, Harry unable to stop from smiling. Leigh brings out their hot drinks, and Harry thanks her before picking up her mug to have a sip from.

Which she should have absolutely waited to do because she snorts with laughter as the camera pans to Daisy’s face and she looks horrified at what’s going on. Thankfully, Harry only spills a little of her drink on her jacket. 

“I’ll just go to the loo and wipe this off,” she says as Louis pauses the video. 

She slides out of the booth and makes her way to the toilets. She wets some paper towel and carefully gets the spillage off her jacket. Thank goodness leather comes clean relatively easy. She’ll have to clean it properly later – she doesn’t want to go around smelling like sour milk.

She takes her jacket off and drapes it over her arm. At least her shirt will be easier to clean if she spills anything on that, she figures.

Their food, well, Louis’ food, has been served when Harry sits back down. Louis pushes the plate over to her and nods once. 

“Go on, have some,” she says, taking another bite of the half of the sandwich in her hands.

Harry picks up the half sitting on top and takes a bite. She almost moans. There’s nothing particularly spectacular about it, it’s just a toasted ham and cheese sandwich, but it just tastes _amazing_ to Harry.

“Good, right?” Louis asks with a grin.

“Yeah, it is,” Harry agrees, with a smile of her own. 

As she’s finishing up her half, Louis’ foot moves under the table and presses against Harry’s own. She isn’t sure if she should move her own or not. But she figures that would just draw attention to it, and so she decides to just stay still.

“Go on, have some more,” Louis says. Her tongue darts out to lick the crumbs off her lips and Harry’s gaze follows the movement. She forces herself to look down at the second sandwich and she reaches for another half.

They eat in silence, just enjoying the food, which Harry is grateful for. Her brain is definitely getting tired, and she can feel her body relaxing into the vinyl of the booth. 

“Thank you,” Harry says when she’s finished both her food and her hot chocolate. “I really needed that.”

Louis gives her a crinkly eyed smile. “Of course,” she says. “C’mon, I should get you home.”

They put their jackets back on and make their way out into the cold evening. 

“Fuck,” Louis says suddenly. 

Harry looks over at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve _somehow_ managed to leave my house keys at home.” She sighs heavily and pushes her fringe out of her eyes. “These are the keys to the shop because I always open up.” 

“Oh,” Harry says, feeling stupid. “Isn’t Liam at home?”

Louis shakes her head. “Nah, she stayed in Doncaster with the girls after the excursion,” she says. “She wanted to see mum a bit, too. She won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“You can stay at mine,” Harry offers before she really has even thought about it.

“Are you sure?” Louis says. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be intruding,” Harry replies. “It’s literally just me. It’ll be nice to have someone else in the house.”

Relief floods Louis’ face. “Thank you so much,” she says. “I’d hate to wake up someone at two in the morning to ask if I can crash on their sofa.”

Harry shakes her head. “It’s fine. C’mon, let’s go, I’m cold.”

“I’m not surprised,” Louis comments, “you’re not even wearing a bra.”

Before Harry can react, Louis is swinging her leg over the bike and settling on it. Harry shoves her helmet on and quickly grips Louis’ hips as they take off.

She directs Louis to the underground car park of her building and Louis parks her bike next to Harry’s. They take the lift up to Harry’s flat and she unlocks the door with slightly shaking hands.

It doesn’t necessarily _mean_ something that Louis noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra – does it? She sets her borrowed helmet down in the entry way and Louis does the same. They shrug off their jackets and Harry glances down. Well, that explains it – she hadn’t buttoned her shirt all the way up. She probably accidentally flashed Louis at some point tonight. 

“Did you want anything to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good. Can I use your loo, though?” Louis asks.

“Of course.” Harry tells her where it is, and Louis disappears. Harry wanders into her own ensuite and relieves herself before brushing her teeth. She yawns around her toothbrush and blinks heavily, feeling the effects of the day hitting her.

“Harry?” Louis calls out as Harry wanders back into her bedroom. 

“Shit,” Harry mutters. “In here!” she calls out louder. “Do you want some pyjamas? I have plenty of spares. The trousers might be a little long on you, though.” She reaches into her chest of drawers where she keeps the spares and pulls out a set that should fit Louis, opting for shorts instead of trousers for her. 

“Are you calling me short?” Louis asks as she wanders into Harry’s room, her tone teasing.

Harry smiles at her. “Just a little,” she replies cheekily, closing the drawer with her elbow.

“Oi, that’s rude,” Louis says. She reaches out and pokes Harry’ in the tummy. But her hand doesn’t move away just yet. Her fingers fiddle with a button on Harry’s shirt. “I like this top,” she says. Her voice is soft. Harry’s heart picks up speed in her chest.

Louis steps closer and Harry feels her mouth go completely dry. 

They’re so close that Harry can see just how _blue_ Louis’ eyes are. Harry licks her lips and she marvels at the fact that Louis’ gaze follows it. Louis tilts her head up and _just_ as their lips are about to touch, Harry closes her eyes and steps back.

“I can’t,” she whispers regretfully.

Louis’ hand doesn’t leave Harry’s hip. “Why not? You’re single, right?” Her voice is still soft, and she’s still close enough that Harry can feel her warmth.

“I can’t make you a cheater,” Harry says, opening her eyes again to look at Louis.

“What?”

“What?”

“Why would you think I’d be a cheater?” Louis asks.

“…Because you’re in a relationship with Liam?”

What Harry _doesn’t_ expect is for Louis to burst out laughing. Harry pouts, frowning at Louis. She isn’t sure what’s so funny, and she doesn’t really appreciate Louis’ reaction.

“Oh, love,” Louis says, her tone impossibly fond. “Did you miss the part where I said Liam was practically my sister?”

“So you’re _not_ in a relationship with her?” Harry asks needing the clarification. 

“ _Definitely_ not,” Louis replies. “I am _very_ much single.”

“Oh.” Harry’s a little stunned right now. She has to re-evaluate her entire life. 

“So… can I kiss you?”

“Oh. Yes, please,” Harry replies.

Louis’ smile fills her vision before her lips press against Harry’s own. She has to lean up on her tiptoes a little, but Harry loves it. She is quick to hold onto Louis’ hips, adjusting her posture so that Louis doesn’t have to stretch to kiss her.

All she can think of is that it’s _Louis’ lips_ that are pressed against her own. 

She’s thirty-three years old and she feels like a teenager having her first kiss all over again. 

“Been wanting to do that for ages, Curly,” Louis says. Her breath is warm against Harry’s cheek, and she reaches up, sliding her fingers into Harry’s hair. 

“Me too,” Harry admits. “I can’t believe you’re bloody single, though. We could’ve been doing this for ages now.”

“I _have_ been flirting with you pretty hard core,” Louis says. Her nose brushes against Harry’s before their lips connect again. “And I thought you were finally flirting back with me by wearing this shirt.” Her hands tug on the fabric of Harry’s shirt and Harry has to grin.

“It’s a good shirt,” she mumbles, angling her head to kiss Louis again. 

“It’s my favourite,” Louis says.

They stumble until the backs of Louis’ legs hit Harry’s unmade bed and before she can even ask if this is okay, Louis is pulling Harry on top of her.

She lets out a squeak and quickly adjusts her position so that she’s more comfortable and Louis breaks the kiss to smile at her. She gently cups Harry’s cheek in a hand and runs her thumb over Harry’s bottom lip. 

“You’re very good at this,” Louis says. “But I might take you up on those pyjamas, these trousers are not very comfortable to lie down in.”

Harry bites back a laugh and she moves off Louis so they can both get changed. She shamelessly takes off her shirt while Louis watches her, uncaring that Louis can see her boobs.

“Maybe you _shouldn’t_ put a shirt on,” Louis says conversationally. “You look _much_ better like this.”

Harry laughs when Louis closes the distance between them, plucks the shirt out of her hands and throws it to the ground. 

“I think I’m open to that,” she says before Louis is kissing her again. 

“Wait, let me take these damn jeans off,” Louis says, breaking the kiss.

Harry watches, amused, as Louis shoves her tight jeans down, huffs, hops on one foot while trying to peel them off. She quickly stops Louis from toppling over when she finally gets her first leg out of the offending article of clothing.

“The downside of skinny jeans,” Harry says. She knows she sounds thoroughly amused, but she’s also standing there in just pyjama bottoms with no top on, so she can’t really comment. 

Finally, Louis has the jeans off and Harry’s pyjama shorts on. And Harry can’t help but _stare_. She knew they would make Louis’ arse look _incredible_ but she didn’t know _just how good_ it would be.

But then Louis has to go and take off her top, and she shrugs out of her bra. Harry’s mouth goes dry. She licks her lips and stares again. 

“Figured you can’t be the only one without a shirt on,” Louis says easily. Harry closes the gap between them this time, pulling Louis flush against her. 

Louis’ body is soft and warm against her own. She leads Louis back to the bed and pulls Louis on top of her. Now that she’s kissed Louis she doesn’t want to stop.

Thankfully, Louis seems to feel the same way. They settle on the bed together, kissing heatedly. One of Louis’ hands is holding herself up over Harry while the other one has made its way to Harry’s boob. She gently pinches Harry’s nipple and Harry moans.

“Fuck,” she says. But then has to absolutely ruin it by yawning so widely her jaw cracks.

Louis snorts and drops her head to rest on Harry’s collarbone. “I’ll take that as you needing to sleep and not as an insult to my kissing abilities.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says as Louis rolls off her. She snuggles closer to Louis. “It’s been a really long week.”

“I know, love,” Louis says softly. She reaches up and pushes Harry’s hair out of her eyes. She leans in close, presses their lips together once more before pulling back. “Good night.”

Harry grins at her. “Night.”

~*~

When Harry wakes, the first thing she notices is that she feels _incredibly_ warm. The next thing she registers is the shape of a body behind her. She smiles, remembering last night. She can feel Louis’ breasts pressing against her back where they’re spooned. She wants to roll over and face Louis, to wake her up with kisses, but she also just wants to lie here and enjoy being cuddled.

So she closes her eyes again, hoping to enjoy this moment for as long as she can. 

A short while later, the sound of Harry’s phone buzzing on her bedside drawers rouses her fully from sleep. She props herself up on one elbow and picks it up from where it’s on charge, frowning at the screen’s brightness. It’s mid-morning already – she and Louis have slept in a bit. She grins when she puts their names together in her head. She could easily get used to this.

Her phone buzzes again with another message from Safaa. 

It’s far too early for her brain to be keeping up with what Safaa has to say, but Harry feels like she understands the gist of it and replies accordingly. She still can’t believe it was only _yesterday_ that she ran into Richard. 

Harry places her phone back down on the bedside drawer and is about to roll back over when she feels lips on the back of her shoulder. Her eyes flutter closed at the touch, her skin breaking out in goosebumps. 

“Morning,” Louis mumbles, her breath warm against Harry’s bare skin. Her nipples harden at how husky and sexy Louis’ voice sounds.

She turns over and faces Louis properly. Louis’ smile makes Harry’s toes curl happily and she can’t help but smile back at her.

“Morning,” Harry returns.

“Anything important?” Louis asks, nodding towards Harry’s phone.

She shakes her head. “Nothing that can’t wait.” She closes the gap between them, leaning down to kiss Louis. Her mouth is warm and soft and Harry sighs into the kiss. 

They’re both half naked still, which Harry absolutely _loves_. Especially when Louis’ hand slowly makes its way up her back and stops at her boob. She thumbs over Harry’s nipple and it makes Harry gasp.

Louis smiles against Harry’s lips and repeats the action. 

“You’re very responsive,” she mutters.

“Yeah,” Harry whispers. “I love my nipples being played with.”

“Duly noted,” Louis replies. Then she dips her head and closes her mouth around the nipple she’d just been teasing. Harry’s eyes flutter closed at the action.

She falls back onto the pillows, her breathing growing heavy as Louis’ tongue works impossible magic on her body. She tangles a hand in Louis’ hair, keeping her where she is. 

Louis only pulls back when Harry feels like she can’t breathe anymore. She’s soaking wet, her heart thudding in her chest and feeling ridiculously turned on.

She practically throws herself at Louis, kissing her hotly. Their tongues slide easily against each other, familiar, despite only having kissed a handful of times since last night. But Harry never wants to forget this feeling. Never wants to forget how Louis arches into her, and clings to her body. She kisses her way down Louis’ jaw and lets her teeth scrape against the pulse point on Louis’ neck.

“Do you want to?” she asks, breathing heavily against Louis’ neck. She presses a soft kiss there, too scared to do anything more until she has Louis’ explicit consent.

“Fuck yes,” Louis replies emphatically. “I’ve wanted this for ages now.”

“Me too,” Harry agrees. She nips at Louis’ neck before pulling back. “Can I go down on you?”

Louis’ eyes widen but she nods. “I’d love you to.” Harry _beams_. She reaches for the hem of Louis’ shorts, pulling them and her knickers down at the same time. She tosses them over the edge of the bed and settles herself between Louis’ spread legs. 

She leans over Louis and kisses her slowly. Louis’ moans match her own as they kiss. Louis grabs her hips and pulls Harry so they’re flush against each other. She can feel the heat of Louis pressing against her body.

“Take these off,” Louis whispers, snapping the elastic of Harry’s pyjama bottoms. She jolts at the touch but quickly complies.

“You’re very beautiful,” Harry says when she is as naked as Louis is. “I love your tattoos.”

Louis grins. “Thanks,” she replies. 

Harry lowers her head and kisses the tattoos that wind around the left side of Louis’ ribs. She scrapes her teeth over every single inch, soothing her tongue over the same spot. She makes her way down Louis’ stomach, nipping at the soft flesh, pressing lingering kisses wherever Louis gasps louder.

By the time she reaches Louis’ pubic mound, she can smell how wet Louis is. She licks her lips in anticipation.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks, looking up at Louis. Louis props herself up on her elbows and nods.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Louis replies.

“I like my hair being pulled,” Harry says before she licks a fat stripe up Louis’ pussy. Louis elbows give out from underneath her and she ruts down into Harry’s mouth.

Harry closes her eyes and loses herself in Louis’ taste. This is far more intoxicating than Harry was anticipating. She just wants to eat Louis out forever if given the chance. She sucks on Louis’ clit, taking the whole thing into her mouth, rolling it with her tongue.

From the way Louis’ hand grips tightly in Harry’s hair, she figures that Louis likes that a lot. She repeats the action and is rewarded with Louis rutting down into her mouth. 

Louis tastes incredible, Harry thinks. She loves the slick, warm feel of Louis all over her tongue and mouth. She moans, unable to help herself. This is a better feeling than the rush of selling an entire building in three months. A better rush than beating Niall in pool. And a far better feeling knowing that Louis is _not_ in a relationship with Liam, which means, if Louis wants, Harry can do this a _lot_ more.

“Fuck,” Louis hisses as Harry’s teeth scrape gently over the hood of her clit. “Do that again.”

Harry smiles to herself and repeats the action. Louis’ hips move with the action, practically fucking Harry’s mouth. She lets her. She absolutely _loves_ this. Loves knowing that she’s making Louis feel this good.

“So close,” Louis mumbles. Her hand tightens in Harry’s hair again and Harry moans, mouth going slack. But the movement of Louis’ hips has Harry refocusing her attention and doubling her efforts to make Louis come.

“Fuck!” 

Louis’ thighs tremble around Harry’s head. Her hand is impossibly tight in Harry’s hair, and she knows she’s going to feel that later, but _fuck_ it feels so good. Harry keeps licking Louis until her legs fall open and her hand releases itself from Harry’s hair. 

Harry doesn’t move from between Louis’ legs just yet. She stays there, licking her gently. Her tongue dips inside of Louis, curling to taste her. 

Louis’ pussy is so shiny and puffy when Harry finally lifts her head. She can’t help herself. She lowers her lips and kisses Louis’ clit. Louis whimpers from it.

“Trying to get me to go again, love?” she asks, her voice that sexy husky again.

“If you want,” Harry replies with an easy shrug. “I love eating women out.”

“I can tell.” Louis smiles. “But come up here, I want to taste you, too.”

Harry’s clit throbs at the implication.

“But come sit on my face? I don’t think I can _move_ after that orgasm.”

Harry nods. She quickly manoeuvres until she’s got a leg on either side of Louis’ head. Louis’ hands are soft on Harry’s thighs, stroking upwards. She smooths over Harry’s bottom with one hand before delivering one quick, sharp slap to the flesh. Harry yelps, her hips twitching from the action.

“That’s good to know,” Louis mutters before she’s grabbing Harry a little roughly and covering her with her mouth.

Harry moans loudly. Her noises fill the room. She isn’t going to last long, not when she’s as worked up as she is.

Louis doesn’t seem to mind, though. Her tongue feels like perfection inside of Harry. And every time Harry thinks that Louis is going to stick to one thing, she moves.

In the end, it’s Louis sucking on Harry’s clit for more than three seconds at a time that sends her over the edge. She grips the headboard with two hands and practically fucks herself down onto Louis’ mouth, moaning the entire time.

Her heart thuds in her chest, sweat prickles at her skin as she orgasms. She shakes as she rides through the waves, her eyes closed, enjoying the moment. She feels Louis tap her thigh and she moves off her, her body trembling.

Louis pulls her in close, wraps the blankets around them and kisses Harry slowly, lazily. Harry can taste herself on Louis’ tongue, and she wonders if Louis can taste herself on Harry’s. Her thigh slots between Harry’s legs, and presses _just_ high enough that if Harry wanted to, she could use Louis’ thigh to rut against and make herself come again. 

But she doesn’t want to just yet. Maybe later when she isn’t feeling so shaky.

“Alright, love?” Louis asks.

Harry nods. “I’m perfect,” she replies. She looks up, sees Louis’ beautiful, crinkly eyed smile and presses their lips together again. She can’t believe that she finally gets to do this. That Louis is _here_ in her bed with her. 

Things are finally looking up.

~*~

The battle with Richard goes on for far longer than Harry expects it to, or thinks it will. She knew Richard was a stubborn bastard, but this is a whole new level. He tried to blackball her wherever he could. Thankfully, Harry’s reputation preceded Richard’s smear campaign, and Harry was finally, _finally_ able to get her own agency started.

It took a lot of effort, from her part, mostly, but Safaa, Niall, Zayn, Louis, and surprisingly, Liam, were there with her every step of the way.

As Safaa had predicted, six of the women estate agents from Richard’s agency left, leaving Richard looking like a fool, which was just a bonus to Harry. But also _every_ single one of the female assistants left, too, which was just the icing on the cake to Harry. She gave them all jobs. Promised that anyone who wanted to be a real estate agent could train under her, and that’s when everything fell into place.

Her first day of business was just over a week ago, and things have, thankfully, been going really well. She knows to expect some kind of knockback from the Richard side of things, but for now, things are going well, and that’s what she’s focusing on.

“Delivery for Harry Styles,” an unknown voice says, making Harry look up from her work. She grins when she sees Louis standing in the doorway, holding a bunch of flowers. 

“Did you really just disguise your voice?” Harry asks, thoroughly amused. She stands up and closes the distance between them.

“Yeah, but I needn’t have bothered – you were so wrapped up in your work that you probably wouldn’t even have realised it was me,” Louis replies. She kisses Harry’s cheek and passes her the vase holding the flowers. “Figured your office could use some brightening up.”

“Thank you,” Harry replies. She sets the vase down on the low bookshelf behind her and then turns back to face her girlfriend. “Oh,” she says when she realises that Louis is wearing the new dungarees Harry got her. They’re probably _not_ that practical for the shop, but they cling to Louis’ bum rather spectacularly, and, well, Harry is a weak lesbian and her girlfriend looks incredible like this.

Louis gives her a cheeky grin. She reaches behind her and shuts Harry’s door. “I _also_ thought that maybe we could christen your office?”

Harry’s pulse spikes at the implication, but she finds herself nodding anyway. Louis gestures for Harry to sit back down, and she does. Louis climbs onto Harry’s lap and drapes her arms across Harry’s shoulders, giving into every single one of Harry’s fantasies right now.

“I mean,” Harry begins, her voice cracking slightly. “We’d better not. Because you know. Professionalism and all that.”

Louis just nods. She kisses the side of Harry’s neck, then the shell of her ear, nipping at the lobe. “You can be quiet, can’t you?” 

Harry’s answering whimper doesn’t really confirm or deny that, but she’s willing to find out if Louis is.

A loud knock on the door makes them both jump. “You better not be doing anything sexy in there!” Niall calls out loudly. 

Harry’s nose crinkles at the volume and Louis just laughs, her entire body shaking with it. Harry smiles, unable to help herself. She kisses Louis soundly on the lips and purposefully ignores Niall on the other side of the door. She’s far too happy to even care.

**Author's Note:**

> hi again. if you've got this far, i hope you enjoyed this fic. ♥  
> please leave me a comment if you liked it. i love comments so very much a lot. ♥  
> criticism, constructive or not, is not welcome.
> 
> rebloggable post on my [tumblr](https://star55.tumblr.com/post/189541099966)


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